


The Path Less Traveled

by Wunderbar_Pandabar



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Male My Unit | Byleth, Minor Violence, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28706655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wunderbar_Pandabar/pseuds/Wunderbar_Pandabar
Summary: A retelling of FE3H where Byleth has a twin and they don't become professors. Instead Jeralt has to step up to the role of teacher.There will be spoilers, so far just for pre-time skip conversations and events.I'll update tags, rating, summary, etc. as this story builds.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 18
Kudos: 49





	1. Out of the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Bold text will be used to indicate when Sothis is speaking outside of any dreams.
> 
> Non-canon notes:  
> Sitri physically looks similar to Byleth and Benson in this version of the FE3H world.  
> Age isn't going to be a big thing discussed in the story, but to me the majority of students read as young adults in the game, so I tend to headcanon them as 18+, with the obviously younger students such as Lysithia being more like 16/17.

Opening her eyes did little good in the midst of such pitch darkness. A sharp inhale through her nose confirmed that she was still alive. Though the slight sound of her startled breath seemed to have alerted another body in the dark to her presence. Her muscles coiled, ready to spring into action as echoing footsteps slid closer to her.

“Byleth.” The tension is broken by the familiar baritone of her brother’s voice. Just as quickly as her adrenaline had gathered, it dissipated. Reaching towards the voice in a well-practiced gesture that relied on instinct more than sight, they clasped each other’s forearms in a warrior’s handshake.

“Benson, how did you know it was me?”

The slightly taller man huffed in response, “I’ve been telling you for years you need to stop tensing up so much before a fight. Even your breathing tenses.” What normally would have started a light banter of nitpicking each other’s fighting form instead trailed off into silence again, as if the oppressive blackness they found themselves in weighed down on each word until the sentence itself was snuffed out.

“There—" Byleth whispered, turning sharply to the left.

Benson‘s grip on her arm tightened nominally, _I see it too._ A confirmation spoken without words.

A soft green light seemed to be slowly pulsing in the distance.

Letting go of each other they each reached for their weapons. Benson unsheathed his simple steel sword. It was well kept, unadorned, and above all deadly. The whisper it made coming out of its sheath was a promise of death to whoever was so foolish as not to heed its warning. His sister pulled an elegant bow from her back. It was plain in material, but expertly engineered in design. Something she had once picked up on a mission in Almyra, where archery was a more well-developed craft that most found it to be in Fodlan. An arrow was quickly nocked in the string, almost without a conscious thought on her end to make it so.

Nearly silent steps on soft leather soles brought the twins to the light. Neither was prepared for the oddity before them. For instead of some fierce kidnapper who had tucked them away to this unknown location, two sets of eyes rested on just a kid… napping… Each breath she took corresponded with the steady brightening pulse of the green light.

Byleth and Benson shared a quick glance at each other for no more than half a second. It was the most attention they could spare from the stranger in their midst.

The little girl wore an elaborate purple gown paired with ribbons and gold jewelry. Her face was pale and smooth, with enough vibrancy in it to not look sickly against her vividly green hair. Her waves flowed around her petite body in an attempt to become an impromptu blanket. A shuddering sigh left her mouth and marked the final burst of light that now steadily lit her, the stone throne she reclined across, and the twins frozen in front of her.

The tightening of grips on weapons stood in sharp contrast to the lazy yawn that drawled forth from the child as she stretched up into a proper sitting position on the throne. Large green eyes settled on the man and woman who watched her. She leaned forward, chin into her palm, slouching her elbow onto her knee and spoke, “I wonder how you got in here… It is most rude to interrupt a moment of repose. Very rude indeed. Now come to me. I wish to have a look at you.” The hand not supporting her head reached forward and pointed to them, and impatiently she flicked her finger, gesturing them towards her as she spoke.

Out of the corner of Byleth’s eye she watched her twin. His shoulders slowly relaxed, and while he did not put his sword away, he did lower his arm to a more at ease position. _So, his senses aren’t picking up on any threat from this little girl either._ With the reassurance of being on the same page as her brother, Byleth lowered her bow as well, even going so far as to home the drawn arrow back into her quiver.

When the insistent summoning of the girl’s hand didn’t stop, both twins stepped forward, becoming fully illuminated by the green glow emanating from the child.

“Hmm... I have not seen the likes of you before. Who are you, anyway?”

From the closer range the pair now stood, Byleth’s archer eyes spied pointed ears poking out from the girl’s green hair. _This was no ordinary little girl._ She reached out a quieting hand to her brother beside her and spoke before he had the chance.

“We are mortals.”

Surprised equally by the odd answer given by his sister, and the fact that she had elected to answer a question at all when he stood beside her, ready to fill his usual PR role, Benson took a sharper look at the little girl. His eyes quickly discovered what his sisters had already. He wasn’t an expert on fairy tales, and in fact couldn’t recite one to save his life, but this ethereal creature before them surely must have lived in one before awakening on this throne.

The girl replied back to Byleth, “I see. Then you must have a name of sorts. Go on.”

Shaken out of his surprise, Benson took over. Words spoken cautiously, unsure of where this was going, but left with no option but to find out.

“My name is Benson, and this is Byleth.”

“Huh. I shall not ever grow accustomed to the sound of human names. Do all mortals look so similar as you two, or do you share blood?”

“We are twins.” He confirms her suspicions. Only a being such as this would need such a thing confirmed to begin with. To this day no one else had gazed upon their matching dark blue hair, deep ocean eyes, and similarly angled faces and not concluded that they were indeed twins. Any differences in appearance born from gender were easily erased by the unbreaking stoicism they both carried themselves with.

“How strange! Hmm. It all feels so...familiar. I think it may be time for yet another nap... It is almost...time to...begin...” The girl’s cryptic words fade away with the glowing light as she settles against the arm of the throne again, somehow finding comfort against the cold grey stone. Her soft breathing becomes more regular, and her bright green eyes finally close.

Black surrounds Byleth and Benson once again, but this time when they blink against the darkness and open their eyes they are waking in their beds.


	2. First Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A skirmish at dawn begins...

As both twins sit up in their respective beds and look towards each other they can see in their eyes that the experience was shared.

“Was that a—”

“—Dream? I don’t think people typically share those,” Byleth interrupted.

“No, I suppose they don’t.” Benson’s forehead lightly furrowed, barely a hint of the expression on his skin. Most would miss it, but Byleth recognized the ghost expression as much as if it were her own.

“Maybe it’s a—”

“—twin thing,” they finished together. Exhaled huffs of breath substitute for laughter at their shared joke. All their childhood they had been inseparable. From crawling to walking to running, each step had been in sync. Their shared experiences on the battlefield as mercenaries only furthered to cement them together.

Additional thoughts on the strange dream were cut short as their father’s heavy footfalls approached outside the small family’s cramped room. They weren’t going hungry as mercenaries, but it certainly would have been nice to make enough for an extra room at the inn every now and then.

A gruff voice and dirty blond hair popped into the doorway. “Hey. Time to wake up,” Jeralt commanded. He started slightly at the sight of his children, already awake and sharing a half-spoken conversation.

“Ah, you’re both already up. Well, that’s a nice change. OK, time to get moving. Our next job is in the Kingdom. I told you before. It’s far from here, so we’ll need to leave at dawn.”

“Of course,” the pair of voices chorused together. Throwing on the odd piece of armor here and there, they made short work of their morning routine. Traveling light had its benefits.

Glancing out the window Jeralt exclaimed, “Good grief. Everyone is already waiting for us outside.” With that, the towering man bowed out of the room, retreating to the front of the inn to wait for his children to join him.

At the bar, Jeralt’s rough hand slid the proper coin to the inn keeper, paying for the rooms taken by himself and his band of mercenaries. When he turned from the finished transaction, he was surprised to find both twins behind him. Their footsteps down the stairs and through the tavern had been silent, without even the creak of an old floorboard to alert him. He should have expected as much though, after all, he trained them himself. Though he had expected the skill to primarily be used on the battlefield or when stalking dinner, not when casually leaving small inns such as this. Afterall, nothing ever happened in backwater villages such as Remire.

The foolish curse of his overly comfortable thoughts seemed to have summoned trouble itself, for at that moment a member of his crew charged through the front door. The entrance was too loud for the sun to be so low in the sky, barely cresting the far-off horizon.

“Jeralt! Sir! Sorry to barge in, but your presence is needed.”

Already heading towards the door, Jeralt replied, “What's happened?” Benson and Byleth followed their father on his right and left respectively, no more than half a step behind him.

Breaking into the early morning air, the trio swiftly came upon the source of the disturbance.

Three regal figures stood before them, in comically colorful garb. Their bright cloaks a spotlight amongst the greys and blacks of the mercenary crew. The tallest amongst them stepped forward when he sighted upon Jeralt and the clear aura of leadership that parted the mercenaries between them. The young man wore the most armor between the three of them, which was accented by a blue cape that draped heavily over his left shoulder. His blond hair served as the perfect frame to accentuate his piercing ice blue eyes.

Futilely attempting to straighten his already perfect posture the blond youth spoke directly to Jeralt. “Please forgive our intrusion. We wouldn’t bother you were the situation not dire.”

Assessing the group in a quick summarizing glance Jeralt replied, “What do a bunch of kids like you want at this hour?” The dismissive tone failed to shake the iron spine that held the youth to his full and proper height before Jeralt.

 _This group may be young and undoubtably inexperienced, but at least this one seems to have grit._ Byleth thought to herself. If she were a betting woman, her money would be on the three of them being nobles, and in her experience, grit was a rare thing to find in those folks.

The subject of her musings spoke again, “We’re being pursued by a group of bandits. I can only hope that you will be so kind as to lend your support.

“Bandits? Here?” Jeralt’s attention was stolen from the tall one to the woman in red who stepped even with her companion as she answered his question.

“It's true. They attacked us while we were at rest in our camp.”

Seemingly determined to not be the only one left out of the conversation, the second man who slunk in the back spoke up, tossing his short gold cape back over his shoulder as his did so. It was an attention drawing move, and one he seemingly did often.

“We’ve been separated from our companions and we’re outnumbered. They’re after our lives…not to mention our gold.” The last part of his sentence was accompanied by a wink, as if they hadn’t stormed into the village at an ungodly hour and instead were simply chatting over tea. Even the threat of bandits on their tail wasn’t going to dull this one’s chipper attitude.

Benson turned to his sister, expecting to catch the eye roll behind her poker face, knowing their shared look would confirm his thoughts, _these nobles should have just stayed home in their castles where they belonged._ Rather than her gaze, however, he turned his head to see the slightest twitch at the corner of her mouth. Gone faster than he had seen it appear. _What has amused her so much about this group? Their helplessness? Their silly colors and capes? Surely it wasn’t the one in gold who caused her smile. I mean for goddess’s sake; did she not see the dumb braid the brat wore?_

Jeralt is second to betray Benson’s assessment of the group. “I’m impressed you’re staying so calm considering the situation. I… Wait. That uniform…”

Another mercenary in the group who typically scouted for them during their travels rushed up to Jeralt, paying no heed to the conversation in progress.

“Bandits spotted just outside the village! Damn… There are a lot of them.”

“I guess they followed you all the way here. We can’t abandon this village now.” Turning from the nobles, Jeralt eyed his own children. “Come on, let’s move. Hope you’re ready.” A grim mask of battle settled over Jeralt’s facial features. One had only to look at him to know his name as Blade Breaker.

He pulled himself onto his horse and started out with Benson and Byleth close behind on foot. After a moment’s hesitation and the realization that they would soon be left behind, the three nobles pulled themselves together and fell in an impromptu formation, following the strange mercenaries onto the battlefield they had delivered to the village’s door.

***

The five youths had no chance of keeping up with Jeralt’s warhorse, so as a result they arrived behind him and to the sound of him shouting orders to the mercenaries who had already taken their place on the battlefield. Benson and Byleth were used to working outside of Jeralt’s orders, so as a result they did not stop to listen for them. Within the crew they were considered somewhat of a ‘special unit’. The Ashen Demon and his Shadow, some would say, but only when they were certain the subjects of their gossip weren’t around to hear.

Benson drew his sword in a flash, shifting his weight to prepare a charge towards a small group of bandits who were attempting to work their way around the bloody scene of clashing bodies. This ambitious group of criminals had elected to take a route slightly concealed by underbrush at the edge of the woods, surely in the hopes of avoiding the fight all together and stealing the noble loot directly from the source.

A high whistle drew his attention before he could spring into the fight. It was his sister’s signal to him when they were in the cacophony of battle. He asked her evenly, if not a little impatiently, “What is it, Byleth?”

“I think you’re forgetting something…” She gestured her head back to the nobles behind them. “Without orders they’ll only…”

 _Get in the way_. Benson thought, cursing lightly under his breath. Time was passing quickly as the straggling bandits continued their trek around the outskirts of the battle. There wasn’t time to think more on the burden he was loath to bear.

Reading the agreement in his eyes, Byleth darted off to the shadows of the forest, wrapping herself into them as though they were a cloak. Within seconds her presence was concealed, and she was lost to the remaining party of four’s gaze.

“Does she do that often?” The befuddled youth with the braid in his hair asked. Concern and bemusement playing equal parts across his face.

Benson ignored the comment. “Princess, Blondie, Yellow, follow me. Listen to my orders or you’ll likely die.”

Two nods of agreement came from the woman and the tall man, as they readied an axe and lance respectively. A defeated sigh was the only agreement from the third noble as he muttered under his breath, “It’s _clearly_ gold…” Though the words were lost to the wind as they raced straight towards the wayward bandits.

***

Byleth stalked her prey, slipping from tree to tree in perfect silence. Across the field she could see her brother and his new recruits on a collision course to the bandits’ location. She kept the bandits between herself and Benson. It was a more exposed position to separate a single unit from the rest of the group, but the panic caused by the fear of being surrounded would tear apart a ragged collection of criminals such as this. Just when the first of the bandits noticed the approaching fighters, she loosed her arrow. It pierced the words of warning he was about to issue while they were still in his throat.

The five remaining men cry out in alarm at their swiftly dropped comrade. Heads swivel in different directions as they try to locate the shooter. Another arrow cuts through the air, slamming into a meaty shoulder. This one reveals Byleth’s general position. The men duck behind trees and focus in on the threat in the woods. Unfortunately for them they had become distracted enough to miss the threat on the field.

Byleth watches from her hiding spot as the man who had winked so easily in the meeting with Jeralt launches his own arrow at the bandits. A light smile rests on his lips still, despite the chaos around them. Further ahead of the archer Byleth’s attention is caught by the barked orders of her brother.

“Blondie, to the right. Princess, to the left. Catch the ones who run away from me.”

Byleth shook her head to herself. _Benson could have at least tried to pick better nicknames._

The sharp ring of steel against armor punctuated the air around them. Benson’s blank face gave nothing away as he fell upon his enemies. Panicked cries rose as the surprise attack was discovered by all.

The first fell to a decapitating sword swing as he turned around. The well sharpened blade performing the job so swiftly the man’s head and body fell facing different directions. Momentum carried Benson forward as he twisted around the tree trunk, falling on his next victim. The man with the arrow in his shoulder feebly tried holding off the Ashen Demon’s attacks with only a shield, as his sword arm hung limply at his side.

Seeing the lighting fast demise of another member of their gang, the remaining three unengaged bandits scattered. Lance strikes and arrows tore through the flesh of two of them. While Byleth saw errors in both young men’s forms, she did find herself surprised at the underlying skill that was evident in them. Then realization dawned on her that there was something missing in this picture. _The woman._ Scanning through the trees Byleth saw her rushing forward. Another second passed and Byleth identified the reason. The final bandit was making his way directly into the forest. Clearly a coward, eager to abandon his friends. The woman had rushed to catch him, not knowing that Byleth was already in position to.

The woman in red heaved her axe heavily into the man, narrowly missing him. Not allowing her blade to become imbedded in the forest floor, she dexterously twisted her frame, lugging the axe into another strike. The sword wielding bandit ducked around her again, this time managing to get in a hit of his own. The young woman clearly had talent but was unfortunate enough to find herself caught in a fight where her weapon of choice was inherently disadvantaged. The shattering hits of her axe would be brutal, but had a hard time hitting their target when paired against the maneuverability of a sword.

Another cut tore at her red leggings before Byleth abandoned her bow to step in. As a shadow she really didn’t enjoy a close contact fight, but with how closely the sword was pressing into the axe’s attacks she just couldn’t risk a shot with an arrow. Wreathing her fists in a modified fire spell, Byleth settled into a brawler’s stance.

Finding himself caught between two enemies now, the bandit turned more cautious. Byleth kept cycling opposite the other woman, both looking for an opening. Byleth was the first to find one. She caught the woman’s lavender eyes over the bandit’s shoulder, nodded, and lunged in.

A fiery hand closed around the back of the man’s neck and jerked him backwards, off balance. The other woman didn’t hesitate to take the opening to swing her axe into the bandit’s stomach. The criminal’s pained cries echoes through the trees as his blood pooled around him at an alarming rate. An arrow through the heart ended his suffering. Looking up Byleth saw the man who fired the arrow, closely flanked by her brother and the tall man in blue.

With the threats eliminated Byleth let out a soft breath. The flames running across her hands extinguished and she nodded to her brother as though they had just finished a bout of sparring rather than a life-or-death battle. The distant roar of the rest of the mercenary crew’s battle was dying down rapidly as well, as they too were finishing their bandit foes.

Satisfied in their safety enough to turn her full attention to the nobles she calmly stated, “Well, I guess it’s about time we heard your names.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was surprisingly hard to write without using Claude, Dimitri, and Edelgard's names... I'm sorry, there was just no time for introductions!!
> 
> Let me know if it got confusing who I was talking about, I tried my best to keep it clear!


	3. Shatter

At the invitation for a formal introduction, the tall blonde man strode forward eagerly. He bowed slightly towards each twin in turn.

“Allow me to start. My name is Dimitri Blaiddyd. I would like to sincerely thank you for your assistance in this battle. We are in your debt.” A solemn nod of his head accompanied the statement. “It would not have done for us to have died here today.” The dark implication of Dimitri’s words settled around him as though death were an aura he carried often.

The second man was impervious to the grim mood that attempted to take hold of the party with the thoughts of their deaths, he took his turn to introduce himself. “The name is Claude, and it is thanks to you two that we are all decidedly NOT dead right now.” He says the last part with a side glance at Dimitri and an easy roll of his eyes. It seemed he did not have such dark expectations as his companion did. “Let me tell you, I didn’t expect to run into mercenaries like you in some remote village. The gods of fortune must be smiling on me!”

“You did not expect to find fighters here, and yet you still ran to Remire with a violent crew of bandits at your back?” Benson queried with raised eyebrows. The look of judgement successfully put an ounce of shame into Claude’s charming smile.

His eyes shifted down, and to the direction the red woman still stood silently. “You raise a fair point, though I must admit I am not as familiar with the area as those who are from here.”

Catching the hinted blame being passed her way, the woman squared her shoulders as though gearing up for another fight. “I hardly think that’s fair. I would have directed you in a more suitable direction had you not been so far ahead of Dimitri and I when you started to flee the bandits in the first place!”

Hands raised in front of Claude placatingly. “Calm down Edelgard, I’m only teasing.” He steps back from her and throws his hand behind his head sheepishly. “Besides, I wasn’t expecting you guys to follow after me so directly. If we had all scattered as I intended, that group of numskulls would have been easy pickings.”

Huffing a short breath as disdainfully as one could ever hope to manage, the woman redirected her lavender gaze at the twins. “As the great _Claude von Reigan_ ,” more disdain coated her words. It was getting impressive at this point. “has already stated, my name is Edelgard. Edelgard von Hresvelg of the Adrestian Empire.” Eyes darted up and down the bodies of the two mercenaries. An optical evaluation of sorts. “I’m eager to learn more of who you are. Not many mercenaries carry the fighting skill you two have displayed today. I never thought I would find myself face to face with a swordsman who moves like a dancer, and an archer who… well, that trick with the fire was rather impressive to say the least.”

“I am called Benson, and my sister goes by Byleth. You’ve already surmised that we are mercenaries, and beyond that there really isn’t anything more to know.” Benson ended the already lengthy introductions like a period at the end of a run-on sentence. He broke away from the group in a beeline back to his father.

Quizzical eyes trailed after him as the nobles processed his brief response. He was right, beyond their names he hadn’t told the group anything they hadn’t been able to figure out for themselves. The pair of dark headed mercenaries were certainly unique.

Drawn by the string of habit, Byleth found herself following her brother. Her mind was rolling over the nobles they had just met. Most folks outside of her father’s mercenary crew whom she interacted with were employers. Even those conversations she typically left to her brother. It wasn’t unusual for their tight-knit crew to be avoided by the common person. Afterall, a band of battle forged mercenaries can hardly be considered a welcoming sight. This group seemed to hold none of the usual hesitations. _Perhaps being drawn into a life-or-death fight with strangers made for a good ice breaker,_ Byleth thought. She filed the information away for the future as she strode towards to her father.

As the distance between herself and the nobles grew, Byleth heard the underbrush of the nearby woods thrashing as a large body bolted through the twigs and low bushes. Her stomach dropped. Whipping around in place she saw a square-headed werewolf of a man dart out of the woods. He was sprinting towards the nobles with reckless abandonment.

Without a conscious thought to command her body to do so, Byleth’s feet dug into the soil below her and launched forward to the impending bloodshed the crazed man promised.

“You’ll die!” He screamed as he neared the one closest to him. Edelgard hadn’t had time to draw her axe. She could only raise her arms in front of her in a desperate attempt at self-preservation.

The burly man’s axe was swinging down, ready to collide with soft flesh when a new target was presented to the blade. Byleth had barely made it in time, with little else to do but push the woman out of the way. Byleth had felt the pain of a well-aimed weapon before, but not one which had found home as this one did. For a second she was split in half, then the next the entire world was encased in glass.

She was no longer at the mercy of the axe. Instead, she stood in the middle of the scene, whole again. Every detail of the surprise attack was displayed around her, the frozen moment refracted a million times in the crystal walls of this new room.

“Honestly! What are you accomplishing with that little stunt?! It’s like you’re trying to get me killed, you fool!”

A tiny foot harmlessly kicked at Byleth’s shin. Her reinforced boots guarded the blow well enough, though even that small protection hardly seemed necessary against the familiar figure before her.

“It’s you!”

“Of course it’s me! Who else would be inside your head?”

Byleth furrowed her brows at that. Things were becoming more confusing by the second.

The green headed girl continued, “Well, it’s fine. After all, if you don’t know the value of your own life, you’re not going to protect it very well, are you? Course not.” She straightened up, hands perched assertively on her hips. “Then I guess it’s up to me to guide you from now on, right? You can call me Sothis…but I’m also known as ‘The Beginning’.” Like a hunting dog hearing the rustling of some elusive game animal the little girl cocked her head to the side. This time more to herself than Byleth she continued muttering. “Hmm… Sothis… Yes, that is it. My name is Sothis. And I am also called…The Beginning. But who once called me that?”

“Sothis?” The name felt foreign on Byleth’s tongue.

“I was not able to recall my name…until just now. And just like that, it came to me. How odd.” Mid-sentence, Sothis seemed to take notice of the concerned glance Byleth had directed towards her. “That look upon your face… Did you think me a child? A mere child who forgot her own name?! Phooey! That ‘child’ just saved your life! And what does that make you?”

“Standing here, staring at the scene of my death… Surrounded by glass that must surely be my coffin… I must confess I feel like a child myself.” Large ocean eyes met Sothis’s sea green ones. A brief second of understanding passed between them. Their lives were tied together in this single uncertain moment of time.

“You threw yourself before an axe to save just one young girl.” A disappointed shake of Sothis’s head swept the criticism away. “Yet all is well, as I have stalled the flow of time for now. You would have died had I not intervened.

“Thank you.”

“There now. Is gratitude so much to ask? I did deem you worth saving, after all. Though it is only momentary, time has stopped. However did I manage that...?” In the quickly becoming familiar habit of Sothis, the girl trailed off again, twisting her green locks around one slender finger.

“What will happen when time resumes?”

“When time begins again, the axe will tear into your flesh, and you will surely meet your end. How rude of you to drag me into this! Now what to do…”

Hope flared in Byleth’s gut as she surveyed the grim tableau. “Can you turn back the hands of time?”

“Now don’t be silly, I’m thinking.” Sothis hushed the bluenette as she continued in deep thought stroking her chin. “Oh wait… actually, what did you just say?”

“Um… I was just thinking if you stopped time… maybe you could turn it back?”

Sothis started dancing from foot to foot, clapping her hands. “Yes... I do believe it can be done. You really are quite troublesome. I cannot wind back time too far, but all is well. You are aware of what’s to come, which means you can protect yourself this time. Now, go… Yes, you who bears the flames within. Drift through the flow of time to find the answers that you seek…”

The glass surrounding Byleth started to ripple and shift. An unfathomable instinct drew her forward, step by step, until she was a breath away from the shifting wall. Slowly she raised her hand and pressed it in against the glass before her as she locked eyes with the fierce man whose axe was still tearing into her reflection’s side. As soon as her skin made contact with the smooth surface of reality, it shattered.

***

“I am called Benson, and my sister goes by Byleth. You’ve already surmised that we are mercenaries, and beyond that there really isn’t anything more to know.” Benson broke away from the group in a beeline back to his father.

The nobles watched him walk away, and for a second Byleth felt the urge to follow. It was as if time were a deep rut in a dirt road. She jerked her consciousness sharply from the path she new would end in disaster. Byleth turned from her brother and faced the three they had just rescued. Shoving through the small group she elbowed them to the side as her hands found purchase on her bow.

The underbrush shook as Byleth knew it would. Her arrow was nocked.

Darting towards them in the same steps she had eerily witnessed moments before, the scream repeated.

“You’ll d—"

Blood sputtered out of his mouth instead words. He looked down in surprise at the arrow that pierced his chest. The second one to the head froze the dumbfounded look onto his face forever as his final breath left his mouth. The last bandit crashed to the ground in a lifeless lump.

“Hey – over here!” Claude shouted in Jeralt’s direction. He eyed Byleth and her bow cautiously, obviously calculating something, though whatever it was remained a secret in his head.

Dimitri stepped forward and rested a hand on each of Byleth’s shoulders, turning her to face him.

“Are you alright? I didn’t see him coming until he was right in front of you.” Dimitri glanced down her body, confirming that she had indeed taken down the bandit before he had a chance to reach her.

A careless arm knocked Dimitri out of the way as Benson intruded between the two, guiding Byleth firmly with one hand on her arm back towards their father, who had rushed closer to them upon hearing Claude’s shout. He spoke low, so the startled trio behind them wouldn’t hear.

“That was exceptionally stupid.”

“It’s stupid to save a life now?”

“If the life hasn’t signed a contract and paid you half in advance? Yeah, I’d say so.”

Byleth stared at Benson without wavering in the slightest. Benson had learned Jeralt’s lessons well it seemed. Though she wasn’t sure if the Mercenary Code was meant to be taken to heart quite so staunchly.

“Look, I was fine. I knew what I was doing. I’ll explain later.” She finished her whisper in a hurry as their father made the last steps towards them. Benson raised one eyebrow at her statement and released her arm before slipping into his blank mask once again.

“Are you okay, Byleth?” Jeralt questioned.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I shot him, not the other way around, okay?” The defensive tone is unusual for her. Normally the concern of her family would be expected and accepted. Though they didn’t function as the typical family did, they still cared, and even dared to show it sometimes. It was the fact that she had been cleaved nearly in half moments before that changed the words of comfort into something that felt a little too much like a eulogy.

Jeralt chuckled deeply and stood straight again, one hand resting on his hip. “Fair enough, kid.” He reached out and ruffled her hair. Byleth barely heard the soft chuckle behind her, and she didn’t have to look back to know it was Claude.

“Alright, alright, enough old man.” Byleth swatted his hand away and took a step back, gathering her calm exterior around her again like a comfortable set of clothes.

The sounds of armor and horses rang in the distance. It seemed Jeralt and his now ragged crew couldn’t catch a break today. They all turned towards the noises that steadily grew louder. Benson drew his sword to a ready position, and Byleth found her place again a step behind him, just where a shadow should be. The nobles were temporarily forgotten as the mercenaries prepared for whatever new danger approached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Any feedback is welcome. I must say, I hadn't expected Remire to last so long in this story... but first impressions matter when you're meeting the future leaders of Fodlan!


	4. Unearthed Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party makes their way back to Garreg Mach.

The crashing and clattering of armor atop battle horses crested over the dirt road that would eventually lead into Ramire. A bombastic voice somehow managed to rise above the thunderous noise of the troop’s arrival.

“The Knights of Seiros are here! We'll cut you down for terrorizing our students!” The speaker was leading the charge of soldiers in both his position at the front of the formation, and in the enthusiasm with which he waved his axe over his head. The man was broad shouldered and had a head of thick brown hair. Bright eyes flew over the battlefield, taking in any possible threats. Once he was close enough to register that the nobles were calmly standing together, seemingly safe, he slowed his horse to a trot and started to more closely survey the dead and dying bandits around them. Jeralt’s mercenaries could also be seen gathered in small clusters here and there where they had previously been tending to their wounds.

It took the twins by surprise when their father almost immediately relaxed his battle stance on sight of the newly gathered forces still riding towards them. He didn’t look happy to see the knight, but all the same he made sure to wave his men down.

“Calm down you guys, these do-gooders aren’t going to be harming us.”

Benson and Byleth looked to each other briefly and lowered their weapons as well. Neither recognized the troops as Jeralt had, but regardless they trusted their father’s judgement implicitly.

Claude approached Benson from behind and went to rest his hand upon Benson’s shoulder. It was a small familiar movement meant to grab his attention, but Benson shrugged to dodge it all the same. The hand that narrowly missed its targeted resting place was now raised placatingly in front of Claude.

“Easy there, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just coming up to tell you those guys aren’t going to try to fight you. They are Knights of Seiros. They were probably just sent out to rescue us once word reached the monastery of our little misadventure.”

“I hardly think you should need to touch me in order to talk to me,” Benson coolly replied.

The reprimand did nothing to affect the easy smile Claude still wore. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He bowed his head slightly and took a step back. While his expression was of one moving on from an awkward encounter, Byleth couldn’t help but notice the note taking that was going on behind his eyes. As if he were cataloguing the interaction for future information. _I might have to keep a closer watch on this one until we are finished with this mess and can part ways._

Attention was drawn back to the leading knight who had now pulled his horse to a halt directly in front of Jeralt.

“The students seem to be unharmed. And... who's this?”

Jeralt’s hand moved to his forehead in exasperation, “Ugh... Why him?” The knight didn’t catch the muttered anti-greeting.

“Captain Jeralt?! It is you! Goodness, it’s been ages. Don’t you recognize me? It’s Alois! Your old right-hand man!” Alois dismounted and charged forward to grasp Jeralt’s hand in a firm shake. “Well, that’s how I always thought of myself anyway. It must have been 20 years ago that you went missing without a trace. I always knew you were still alive!”

“You haven’t changed a bit, Alois. Just as loud as ever. And drop that ‘captain’ nonsense. I’m not your captain anymore. These days I’m just a wandering mercenary. One who has work to do. Good-bye, old friend.” Jeralt withdrew his hand and turned to walk away from the encounter.

“Right... Good-bye, Captain. Wait! That isn't how this ends. I insist that you return to the monastery with me!” Alois rushed around the retreating form of Jeralt to block his path.

A gravely sigh left Jeralt’s mouth as he muttered dejectedly, “Garreg Mach Monastery... I suppose this was inevitable.”

Accepting the sour phrase as agreement Alois turned to Benson and Byleth, a cheery light in his eyes. “And how about you two? Are you the captain's children?”

Benson’s eyebrow raised in surprise. “We are… but what lead to that assumption? We don’t exactly bear a family resemblance.” And he was right. Between the broad stature and blonde hair, there really wasn’t much to tie Jeralt to his children appearance wise.

Alois leaned forward and gave a conspiratorial wink. “Often when one looks a stranger to their father, it only means they favor their mother.” The twins stiffened slightly at those words. The idea that this man who had crashed into their lives by accident might have known their mother… It was a twist of fate neither was expecting.

Straightening up and speaking louder Alois bellowed, “I'd love for both of you to see the monastery too. You will join me, won't you?”

Byleth looking towards Benson, feels relief when he nods to Alois. Jeralt just lets out another sigh.

“What's troubling you, Captain? You aren't about to run off again, are you?” Alois asks Jeralt. The tones of a joking tease and a serious question both playing across his words.

“Even I wouldn't dare run from the Knights of Seiros.”

***

The young nobles traveled towards the front of the marching formation with Alois and Jeralt. Alois was prying every last detail of the encounter from them, laughing boisterously more often than any bandits-ambushed-us-then-they-died story deserved. Benson and Byleth had managed to extract themselves from the prestigious group under the guise of leading Jeralt’s crew of mercenaries in the rear. Not that they needed to be led. While the group looked rough at a glance, they were rare in their fierce loyalty to Jeralt, and the exceptional skills he had helped to cultivate in them during their days training and fighting together. The crew was set to follow Jeralt wherever he led and wouldn’t cause too much trouble along the way. All the same, when the excuse formed itself in Benson’s mind, the twins jumped on the chance to separate themselves and discuss all that had just happened.

Settling into their marching pace, Benson waited patiently for his sister’s previously promised ‘explanation’ to begin.

“I died today.”

Silence filled the moment after her declaration. It wasn’t what Benson expected to hear, but he allowed his sister time to continue. She wasn’t one to exaggerate a story and would never lie to him.

“When the last man came out of the bushes, I was further away… following you. He went to attack that woman, Edelgard, and I didn’t have much time. I was too far away. I barely made in back to her side when he was attacking. When I pushed her out of the way… he hit me instead.”

“That isn’t how I recall what happened this morning.” It wasn’t an accusation when Benson spoke, but merely a statement of fact. Underneath his flat words Byleth heard his question, and the pause that followed as he waited for her to answer.

“You’re only remembering what happened the second time. I changed it, as crazy as that sounds.” There wasn’t anyone close enough to hear their muted conversation, but even so Byleth dropped her voice to a whisper. “It was that girl from our dream Benson. She saved me.” Byleth went on to describe the frozen moment of time and her conversation with Sothis. When she finished the retelling of events, Benson looked as her and put a light hand on her shoulder.

“So you think she is actually real? Some sort of mystical creature who has started living in our… well, I guess just _your_ head?”

**Actually real?! ACTUALLY REAL!?! Of course I am real! Did you truly think me to be some figment of your imagination?**

Sothis’s voice shrilled in Byleth’s head. She stopped moving abruptly, mid-march. Benson viewed her sudden halt with concern.

“Byleth, are you okay?”

_How could he have not heard the screamed protestation?_

**Because I am stuck in your head right now, Lizard Brain.**

Benson was grabbing Byleth’s arm and leading her forward again before the crowd of mercenaries behind them could run into her.

“Byleth! I asked if you were okay.”

She shook her head lightly to clear it. “I don’t know. Umm… Sothis is talking to me right now.”

“For Seiros’ sake. This is getting weirder by the second. What is she saying?”

“She is offended we didn’t think she was real, and… she called me a Lizard Brain?”

Benson’s mouth twitched up. “Well, she’s right about that one, don’t hold it against her.”

The lightest tinkling of laughter danced in Byleth’s head.

 _Don’t encourage him_.

**I am not, he cannot hear me, remember?**

“I wonder why it is I can’t hear her.” Benson spoke as though he were reading her mind. “Afterall, we both met her in that dream. Maybe she took favor to you?”

Byleth wondered on the question as well and could feel Sothis’s shrug.

“I think she is just as confused as we are,” Byleth said.

“Interesting. Until we’ve learned more, I think this whole situation would be best—”

“—kept secret? Duh. Now who’s the Lizard Brain?” She seized on the opportunity to tease Benson back, knocking her shoulder into his as she did so.

He huffed in faux annoyance.

Ahead of Benson and Byleth the group of nobles were steadily falling back in the procession of soldiers, drawing nearer to the twins.

**Ah. It seems your presence is required.**

Byleth nodded to the group of nobles to indicate their approach to her brother.

“Yes, I figured they would be coming to bug us eventually,” he groused.

When the two groups drew even with each other Edelgard spoke, “I appreciate your help back there. Your skill is beyond question. You’re both clearly experienced mercenaries. And your father...that would be Jeralt, the Blade Breaker? Former captain of the Knights of Seiros. Oft praised as the strongest knight to ever live. Have I missed anything?”

Byleth allowed Benson to fulfill his usual role and carry the conversation. She was content to listen and focus in on the subtle clues people left in casual words and phrases that hinted at their true thoughts. It sometimes struck her as remarkable how much information the average person let out to the world unguarded through uncontrolled expressions and careless inflections.

Edelgard was not immune to this flaw. While her words spoke of praise, the hungry gaze fixed on them for half a second too long told another story. She wanted to use them somehow. Perhaps they were looking at a future employer… though there was something else in the woman’s eyes that told Byleth it was a job they might not want to accept.

Speaking over Byleth’s thoughts, Benson responded, “Former captain? I’m not sure you have that part right. Jeralt has been leading our crew for as long as I can remember.”

“Oh, I assure you I am most certainly correct. I grew up hearing the tales of the Blade Breaker, before and after his exodus from the Knights of Seiros. Curious you would not know his former status. I’d wager the explanation for that is fascinating indeed.”

Edelgard was haphazardly knocked to the side by Claude as he shouldered his way closer to the center of the conversation. He was walking directly next to Benson now, though notably he made no move to touch him this time.

“Hey! You are coming with us to the monastery, right? Of course you are. I’d love to bend your ear as we travel. Oh, I should mention that the three of us are students of the Officers Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery. We were doing some training exercises when those bandits attacked. I definitely got the worst of it.” His rush of words hinted at the continual churning of thoughts that must have been going on in his mind non-stop as well.

“That would be because you ran off,” admonished Edelgard.

“Too true! I was the first to make a strategic retreat. Everything would have worked out if these two hadn’t followed me and ruined everything. Because of them, every single one of those bandits chased after us. Utterly ridiculous.”

Walking next to Byleth, Dimitri chimed in. “You keep insisting that was your plan, Claude. And here I thought you were acting as a decoy for the sake of us all.”

“His intentions were as clear as day. You will prove a lacking ruler if you cannot see the truth behind a person's words.”

“Hm. You will prove a lacking ruler if you look for deceit behind every word and fail to trust those whom you rely on.”

Claude interrupted the argument that was building between Dimitri and Edelgard. It was one that had clearly run its course many times before.

“Oh, joy. A royal debate between Their Highnesses. I wonder how being completely predictable affects one’s ability to wield power. Personally, as the embodiment of distrust, I’d say your little exchange smacks of naiveté.”

Edelgard’s chest puffed up at the jab. “Me? Naïve? Tell me, are you actually incapable of keeping quiet, or is your lack of self-awareness a condition of some sort?”

Claude and Edelgard continued to trade insults as Dimitri spoke lower, directly to Byleth.

“Forgive our digression. I must speak with you if you can spare a moment. The way you held your ground against the bandits’ leader was captivating! You never lost control of the situation. It showed me I still have much to learn.”

Edelgard must have spied the shift in Dimitri’s demeanor and sensed the proposal he was about to make, for she dropped the petty squabble with Claude immediately.

“The skill you both displayed is precisely why I must ask you to consider lending your services to the Empire. I might as well tell you now. I am no mere student. I am also the Adrestian Empire’s—”

“Halt, Edelgard. Please allow me to finish my own proposition. The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus is in dire need of exceptional individuals such as the pair of you. Please, do consider returning to the Kingdom with me.”

The flip of a gold cape drew attention over to the next speaker. “Whoa, there! You two sure are hasty. Trying to recruit someone you just met. Tactless, really.” Claude looked carefully between Byleth and Benson, being sure to affix each of them in turn with a winning grin. “I was personally planning to develop a deep and lasting friendship on our journey back to the monastery before begging for favors. But it seems there’s no time for niceties in this world. So, capable strangers, let’s get right to it. Where does your allegiance lie?”

**Hmm. It seems one's place of birth is quite significant to them. Yet they are so impressed by you and your brother, that you may take your pick.**

“Our allegiance lies with gold.”

Claude’s grin grew wider. “Is that right? Well, that’s a win for the Alliance, so I suppose I’m obligated to be happy.”

Edelgard smacked the back of his head sharply. “You idiot. He’s not talking about your country’s stupid colors; their loyalties lie with the highest bidder.”

“Not exactly,” Benson spoke. “Many things go into our consideration to accept a contract. While payment is towards the top of the list, it isn’t the only factor. It’s just the most immediately beneficial one.”

Byleth nodded agreement alongside her brother. What the nobles thought of the last statement didn’t have time to be voiced, as Alois choose that moment to bellow from the front of the formation.

“We’re getting close to the monastery, let’s pick up the pace!”

“Looks like we'll have to pick this up another time,” Claude smiles towards Benson, and sneaks a quick wink at Byleth. Then the group of nobles are off to rejoin the front of the march, as their status surely demands.

“What do you think of them?” Byleth asks her brother once they are out of earshot.

“They are childish and untrained.”

Byleth nodded agreement. “Yes, they look to be young, surely just barely beginning their role as adults. That being said, they are not without skill.”

Benson dipped his head slightly to acknowledge her statement for the truth it held. “Regardless, skill without training is as worthless as leaving the finest piece of steel un-forged. At least no one has the audacity to call that a sword, but these three I’m sure are hailed as fighters amongst their peers.”

“They are only students Benson. I’m sure we are witnessing their forging right now.” The corner of her mouth twitched up at his metaphor. Leave it to the skilled swordsmen to relate everything to his craft.

Benson sighed deeply. “What has Jeralt gotten us into?”

Byleth shrugged. “I don’t think we have much choice but to find out.”

 **Hmm, yes. You will work on finding out, won’t you? And while you are at it, see if you can figure out why I am stuck here in your head as well.** Sothis seemed to yawn in Byleth’s mind. **Alas, I am so sleepy once again… I may be sleeping… but I…**

The soft thoughts of Sothis drifted to the back of Byleth’s mind. It seemed the girl truly was as clueless to the cause of her predicament as the twins were. As the newly unearthed questions tumbled around Byleth’s brain, the march towards Garreg Mach continued, with their hope to find answers laying ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The monastery is so close I can taste it... almost there y'all...
> 
> I generally don't enjoy traveling chapters as they can sometimes feel like filler, but it was nice to get a chance to write more conversational sections of the story. A lot of the dialogue is being pulled from the game right now, but this will be less common once we get to Rhea and beyond I'd say. With a few things pulled from support conversations here and there.


	5. An Unexpected Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeralt and the crew arrive at the monastery. An unexpected request is made...

The grand monastery of Garreg Mach appeared before them in a fashion all too sudden for something which occupied so much space. It was a sprawling building of clearly grand purpose. Stone spires poked above the hill and through the last leaves of the trees before anything else. As the group continued towards it more details became visible. Stained glass windows and vines that creeped up towers interrupted the smooth stone walls. This wasn’t merely a building, but artfully crafted architecture which stood tall in the face of the wilderness and small towns which surrounded it.

For all its elegant beauty, a stern gate swiftly joined the view of the monastery once they reached its base. It was late in the evening and Alois had to request it be opened by the posted guard to let them in. Beyond the gate was a small square, clearly set up to accommodate various vendors who sought to capitalize on the monastery’s population during the more profitable daylight hours.

Alois instructed rooms to be provided to Jeralt’s mercenary crew before attempting to whisk himself and Jeralt away to the Archbishop’s audience chamber. Benson and Byleth immediately moved to follow their father. A subtle hand gesture behind his back, and out of Alois’s sight, halted them in their tracks. It wasn’t entirely unheard of for him to take meetings concerning future contracts by himself, but with the unpredictable events that had brought them here, and the promise of an ‘old friend’ waiting to greet him rather than an employer… the twins were on edge. Every step that separated the family heightened their nerves. Though while they were within the literal walls of strangers, there wasn’t much they could do but wait for their father’s return.

Some monastery clerk was bustling around the midst of the newly arrived party, grumbling about being expected to just find rooms for an entire party of mercenaries as though it were nothing. Spying the markedly young faces of Benson and Byleth amongst the other mercenaries, the clerk spoke to the lingering nobles who had not quite extracted themselves from the hustle and bustle of the large group’s arrival.

“Ah, your highnesses, could I please beg a favor of you before you depart?”

Dimitri responded, “It would our pleasure, what is the favor?”

Wrangled in by Dimitri’s quick agreement, Claude and Edelgard also turned and waited.

“It’s going to be quite a task for me to get this group moved in. We don’t have so many rooms prepared, and it is already late. Would you be so kind as to set these two up in the student’s quarters? I believe there is at least a spare room or two still left over this year.”

Benson interrupted sharply, “We are not students. Rooming with the rest of the mercenary crew will be fine.”

The clerk looked aghast at the suggestion.

“I would certainly think not! The pair of you are what? 20 or so? Hardly the age to be rooming with mercenaries and the like.”

Benson wasn’t one to express open emotions, but this tempted him to roll his eyes.

“I think that ship has sailed. We’ve been traveling with that crew as long as I can remember. For Seiros’s sake, we are a PART of that crew.” He gestured widely with his arms as though to indicate his oneness with the other mercenaries.

“I’m sorry, I simply cannot permit it. Alois has tasked me with finding appropriate quarters for the new arrivals, and when members of said arrivals are as young as you two, I couldn’t in good conscious allow you to stay anywhere but the student’s quarters.” The spindly clerk stretched to his full height, looking sternly towards Benson with an unexpected air of authority. “You carry out business as you see fit on the battlefield, and I’LL keep this monastery running as I see fit, with the power vested in me by the archbishop herself.” A sharp nod of his head ended the matter definitively, as he turned to corral the rest of the mercenaries down twisting corridors towards the battalion quarters.

Benson looked ready to follow the man and continue the argument, but Byleth placed her hand on his arm to stop him. She shook her head, then nodded to the nobles beside them. “Let’s just follow them to our rooms for the night. I hardly think it matters too much where we rest. I’m sure our stay here will be brief.”

Huffing shortly in acquiescence, Benson turned back to the waiting nobles and gestured with one hand for them to lead the way.

Claude took the invitation to guide them with a smile, beginning an impromptu tour guide through the dusky grounds of a sleeping Garreg Mach.

“Up these steps you’ll see the lovely, closed doors of the entrance hall, it’s normally much more inviting, I promise—”

As Claude moved to bound ahead with the group in tow, Byleth’s steps stuttered at the sound of a polite clearing of a throat beside her. She turned to see Dimitri, with his arm hooked in a way that seemed to be offering her his elbow. She looked from his arm to his face in confusion.

“Did you… um… want something?” she asked, concern lightly coloring her gaze towards the young man.

“Oh, ah… ahem.” A blush creeped up Dimitri’s neck and lightly settled on his cheeks. “I was merely trying to offer my arm to walk you to your room.” As he started to lower his arm sheepishly the scene clicked in Byleth’s mind as she finally matched the gesture to one she had seen in the meeting halls of their more noble past employers. She had never understood the need for high born ladies to be guided around on a man’s arm as they walked, but that aside she did recognize the tradition as one of politeness and formality in the eyes of those who practiced it. Before Dimitri could lower his arm completely, she rested her hand lightly above the crook of his inner elbow and met his gaze briefly before looking ahead. She caught the relieved grin that spread across his face at her acceptance to his offer.

Byleth wasn’t one to risk a future contract for a job with a leader of Fodlan over the refusal of a silly tradition. The gold would be too good, and she was really getting tired of sharing cramped rooms in tiny inns with her family.

Dimitri straightened his back and strode forward with Byleth to avoid falling behind the rest of the group.

Claude’s tour continued around the corner of the entrance hall and past a beautiful shimmering pond. A few stray cats gathered around the edges of it, concentrating on the occasional splay of fish swimming below. Stairs to a dining hall were enthusiastically gestured to and an exaggerated nod to a greenhouse followed. The short tour concluded in front of a row of nearly identical doors set into yet another stone building.

“And this sadly brings us to the end of the tour for the lovelier members of our party.” Claude turned back to the small group he led to wink kindly at Edelgard and Byleth. His smile never faltered, but there was a slight shift in his eyes when he noticed the way Dimitri was leading Byleth. “Ah Dimitri, ever the gentleman. Thank goodness we have you here to keep our new friend from straying away.” The teasing words drew Benson’s attention to the pair as well, and the shadow of a scowl passed over his face.

“Just because the Alliance chooses to ignore common practices of gentile behavior doesn’t mean the rest of us do.” In defiance Dimitri purposefully turned to Byleth and bowed, placing a soft kiss on the back of her hand in one fluid motion. “Goodnight lady Byleth, I hope you find your stay to be comfortable.” With another slight bow and flourish towards Edelgard, Dimitri moved to continue towards another set of stairs ahead of them.

“Oh Claude, you’ve gone and embarrassed Dimitri again. I do wish you would try to conduct yourself in a manner more befitting to a noble. Especially in front of guests.” Edelgard let a long glare rest on Claude.

He shrugged off her chiding words easily. “And I wish you were more laid back.” He winked at Edelgard to soften the jest and gave a mock salute to Byleth. “Come on Benson, Edelgard will set Byleth up with a room here in the girl’s dormitories. There’s an empty room at the end of the boy’s dorms that I’m sure Dimitri is airing out as we speak.”

Benson followed Claude hesitantly. In short order he had been separated from his father, his crew, and now Byleth. This was not the way they were meant to operate. The distance stretched between the twins like a rubber band, urging him to turn back to her with every step. Ignoring the unease in his gut, Benson instead listened to the rambling chatter that came from Claude. It was non-sense and small talk that Benson would nod to or shake his head against as appropriate. “Are you familiar with the Officers Academy?” _No._ “How long have you been part of the mercenary crew?” _Silence._ “That long, huh?” _Yes._

Claude quickly adapted to the non-verbal communication and mined as much information as he could in the short walk to Benson’s new room. Dimitri was just leaving it upon their arrival, having opened the door and window to let some fresh air into the small space.

“I hope this will be comfortable enough for you,” Dimitri said, stepping aside to allow Benson a view of the room.

The room was simple and neat. A bed was pushed against one wall, and a desk stood opposite it. There were also various shelves and cabinets within which one could store their belongings.

“I’ve stayed in worse rooms,” Benson replied simply.

This brought a chuckle out of Claude. “That’s certainly a better reaction than when Lorenz saw his room!” He continued to smile at the memory and was met with Benson’s blank face. “You’ll understand when you meet him.”

“I doubt I’ll understand then. Goodnight.” The short words were followed by Benson’s door latching softly closed, finally separating him from the nobles who had lingered in his periphery all day. This entire ordeal had been a nuisance from the start.

Tossing his light knapsack to the floor Benson sat heavily on the bed and placed his head in his hands. While Jeralt was the leader of the mercenary crew, in many ways Benson felt himself to be the protector of their family. Sure, Jeralt had taught him and his sister everything they knew, and he had guided and protected them carefully as children… but now that they were adults it was different. Jeralt wasn’t just responsible for his two children, but also for the entire crew of mercenaries who followed them. The lives of a dozen men and women rested on his shoulders. In the places that burden took over Jeralt’s attention, Benson tried to fill in. He watched out for his family with more attention than he spared for anyone else. When his sister preferred silence, he learned to talk. When drinking dulled Jeralt’s senses, Benson’s grew sharper. The three of them performed a careful balancing act of survival every day, and Benson would be damned before he let these stone walls filled with strangers place them in any danger.

He pulled out his sword and whetstone and began carefully sharpening the weapon. He worked the blade to perfection, then worked it again before reluctantly falling asleep in the monastery bed.

***

While the twins were shown to their rooms, Jeralt reluctantly followed Alois to the woman he had been running from for the past 21 years.

The great doors to a grand audience chamber were open by Alois with gusto.

“Ah-ha! Seteth! Rhea! What a relief you are still up at this hour. You’ll never guess who I’ve stumbled across while bringing the little lords and lady home!”

Rhea’s eyes settled on Jeralt with quick recognition. The surprised expression that spread across Seteth’s face was not matched by Rhea. The archbishop instead wore a satisfied grin, as though a long-awaited day had finally arrived.

Alois stopped in front of the pair, quickly recanting the tale of how he had stumbled across Jeralt and insisted he accompany the party back to the monastery.

“Jeralt, my name is Seteth. I am an advisor to the archbishop.”

“Right. Hello,” was Jeralt’s stiff reply. The tension he had gathered on the walk over here rested heavily in his stance. The soothing voice that spoke next did nothing to relieve his stress.

“It has been a long time, Jeralt. I wonder… was it the will of the goddess that we have another chance meeting like this?” Rhea looked steadily at the blonde man before her, and he could see even more questions burning impatiently behind her eyes.

“Forgive my silence all these years. Much has happened since we last spoke.”

“So I see. Alois mentioned the miracle of fatherhood has blessed you again? You’ve brought your child with you, have you not?”

Alois interrupted cheerily, “Not child my lady, children! He has a pair of twins, and they look to be a fine young man and woman at that.”

There was a glint in Rhea’s eye as she nodded at the piece of information.

Jeralt spoke, “Yes...born many years after I left this place. I wish I could introduce you to the mother of my children... but I’m afraid we lost her to illness.”

“I see. A man greatly blessed, and greatly cursed it would seem. My condolences. Two twins and two wives. It almost seems too much of a coincidence to be believed.”

He knew her sympathies were a thin veil over her accusatory words. She knew of his deceit. He hadn’t thought for a moment she wouldn’t once she heard of his twins. He had faked their death’s when they were babes to escape the monastery, and some cruel twist of faith had undone all his work by bringing them back to where they started.

If Seteth and Alois picked up on the tension in the room they didn’t let it show.

“What are their names?” Rhea asked, propelling the conversation past their dark history.

“Byleth and Benson.”

“Fine names indeed. However, concerning the business of today, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you for saving those students of the Officers Academy.”

Jeralt grunted acknowledgement of her gratitude, which solicited a scowl from Seteth.

Rhea ignored it and continued, “Jeralt. You already know what it is I wish to say, do you not?”

“You want me to rejoin the Knights of Seiros, don’t you? I won’t say no, but…”

“Your apprehension stings. I had expected that Alois would have already asked this of you. However, I do have another request to make of you.”

Jeralt’s eyes narrowed as he wondered what more she could possibly want from him. He waited in silence for the answer.

“I would find myself remiss if I requested your service to the church and did not in turn offer my service to you. I would like your children to enroll in the Officers Academy here in the monastery.”

Alois clapped his hands and exclaimed, “What a wonderful idea! They are about the right age for it, and I’m sure they would absolutely flourish—”

“Nooooo no no. I’m going to have to stop you right there. My kids don’t need to attend this fancy school with a bunch of brats who don’t know which end of a lance to stab someone with. I can assure you I’ve taught them everything they need to know already.”

Rhea’s eyebrows raised. “You have taught them everything? Melee and ranged weapons I can believe, but what about reason and faith? I do not remember those being skills you possessed from your time here at the monastery.”

Jeralt straightened up and haughtily replied to her, “I’ll have you know that I run the finest mercenary crew on this whole damn continent. If you think I’d run into battle without a single magic user, you’ve got another thing coming. Not only did I learn magic from some of the best gremories you could ever hope to meet, but I’ve passed that knowledge on to my children. I’m sure you’ve got great teachers here Rhea, but I’ve got great kids, and I’m not about to waste their time by forcing them to enroll in classes they have far outclassed.” His paternal tirade ended with a huff. He crossed his strong arms in front of his chest and waited for Rhea to challenge him further on the issue.

Instead, a smirk grew on her face. He didn’t like the looks of that at all.

“So you really have taught them as thoroughly as any professor here could?

“Well, yeah…” He hesitated, unsure where this was leading.

“I see, how delightful. The goddess truly does provide when we find ourselves in need.”

“Get to your point Rhea.”

Rhea smiled like a cat who had caught a mouse. Her slender fingers came together in a prayer position, and she hummed softly to herself in satisfaction.

“You must excuse me Jeralt, it’s just I didn’t expect today that fate would bring me back my long-lost Captain of the Knights, and even less so did I expect it would be in the form of the Officers Academy’s newest Professor.”

Alois barked laughter echoed in the large room while Seteth sputtered.

Aghast, the advisor chimed in, “My lady, surely we cannot fill the teaching position so casually. We haven’t done any interviews, and we don’t know this man’s credentials beyond his word.”

Rhea raised a hand to Seteth’s protestations. “The interviews didn’t help with the last professor we hired. To think the man would run away at the first sign of trouble on the house leaders’ camping trip. Besides, Jeralt’s word is good enough for me. Please see to it that he is briefed tomorrow on what his duties as a professor will entail. It is late and I must step away for now, but I expect we will speak again soon. Until tomorrow _Professor_ Jeralt… Farewell.”

With that, the archbishop floated out of the reception hall, leaving Jeralt to absorb the new title that had been thrust upon him. He stood stunned, with only one thought going through his head… _Oh shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never thought it made much sense that Byleth was housed with the students in the game when they are a professor. Byleth deserved their own office damn it! I thought it would make sense if the twins had been put there in THIS story by a clerk too busy to look past their age before lumping them together with the students.
> 
> Also I LOVE the idea of Jeralt being a professor, so that's what we're running with in this story <3
> 
> Which house do you think Jeralt would pick if given the choice? I feel pretty confident on which one it would be, but who knows... maybe I'm in the minority...


	6. A New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of classes at the Officers Academy begins...

For the second time in two days Byleth opened her eyes to darkness. The familiarity of the situation stilled the unease that had risen in her the first time. Glancing around she saw the faint outline of her brother. The darkness wasn’t as complete as before, with the soft green glow already illuminating them partially. They nodded a short greeting to each other and simultaneously approached the light.

Sothis was awake this time, her head resting on one of her hands as she slouched into her throne.

“I have questions for you.” Benson was the first break the silence.

“I am sure you do.” A heavy sigh left her lips. “However, I am not sure I will have your answers.”

Undeterred by her pessimism, Benson continued. “Who are you?”

The little girl rolled her eyes, “My name is Sothis. I already told you that!”

“No, I’m not asking about your name. _Who_ are you? You appear in our dreams, you apparently live in my sister’s head, and as if that weren’t weird enough you can turn back time? How can this be so?”

“If your intention is to ask me _what_ I am rather than _who_ , you need not soften your words. Not that it matters much anyway. I cannot say I understand what I am at this moment.” Sadness crept in Sothis’s eyes at the emptiness of her situation. She was alone in darkness, but for the two rays of light that were Benson and Byleth. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and her usual haughtiness returned. “To answer your other, dumb questions… It can be so because it is so. I feel a great power and connection to the world, even if I am forced to experience it through you. Well, more accurately BOTH of you. You were wrong about one point; I do not live in Byleth’s head. I am alive within the confines of both of your hearts. I am unknown to all but you two. Through your eyes and ears, I see and hear. At least… most of the time.”

Byleth joined the conversation, unable to wait on her brother to voice the question himself. “If you’re connected to both of us, why could only I hear you yesterday? And when you turned back time, I remembered, but Benson did not?”

Sothis gathered her thoughts before answering carefully. “I am not sure I understand it myself fully, but perhaps I can explain it like this… When the pair of you are asleep, such as now, your minds are the quiet banks of a still river. I can wade between you easily, and there is nothing but the soft trickling of water to compete with our thoughts. As you awaken the water of the river starts to move faster and faster, quickly becoming rapids. It is loud and fierce, and to keep from being washed away I must choose a bank to rest on. Yesterday I chose Byleth, and once there the raging river was just too loud for Benson to hear my shouts.”

The twins thought on her explanation for a while. Though it was abstract, neither could profess to understand the depths of the human mind, so it seemed as good of an explanation as any. Once you got past the fact that there was a girl living in their hearts that is.

The long stream of words must have tired Sothis out again. The little girl gave an exaggerated yawn and laid her head across both arms. “I have answered your questions, so if you will excuse me, I still feel a bit tired from that time thingy from yesterday.”

“Time thingy?” Benson scoffed.

Drooping green eyes shifted into a glare directed at Benson. “Well, what would you like to call it? Naming divine powers is not something I waste my energy on.”

“Sure, I can understand that, but I’m not ready to start calling the ability to manipulate the flow of time a ‘thingy’.”

Byleth whispered softly at Benson’s side, “Divine Pulse.”

“Excuse me?” Benson asked.

Byleth cleared her throat and spoke a bit louder. “We should call it Divine Pulse. As Sothis said, it certainly is a divine power, and when we used it I could… feel the flow of time. As though it were a heartbeat… a pulse.”

Sothis closed her eyes again and smiled lightly as she snuggled further into her arms. “Mmm, yes. That sounds lovely.” She trailed off, clearly not even fully listening to the end of the conversation.

“Do you think if we both drank some coffee it would cure her of her narcolepsy?” Benson asked rhetorically.

Byleth shook her head and lightly punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t get sassy with the mysterious entity living in our heads. I don’t want her to start pulling wires while she’s here.”

Benson shrugged in agreement, and before they could continue their conversation, they both woke up in their separate monastery rooms.

***

Claude was a night owl as heart. Some days he tried to go to sleep at a reasonable hour, he really did, but it wasn’t his fault there was so much scheming to be done at night! It was late in the morning and he had certainly missed breakfast by now. He dressed and headed for the dining hall anyway, hopeful to snatch an apple or two before his first day of class started. On his way, Claude’s mind was quickly turning over the information that had been gathered yesterday.

He had met THE Blade Breaker in the flesh. He was a man of legends, and not only did Claude meet the guy, but he also has the chance to possibly meet him again… maybe even… recruit him? Claude was going to need strength on his side as he laid his plans for the future into action. Not only strength, but he would also need loyalty, and if possible, loyalty without all that pesty nationalism so many in Fodlan were fond of. Perhaps a mercenary such as Jeralt would fulfill that checklist nicely. Mercenaries in general had a terrible reputation for following the highest bidder, even if a contract had already been signed, but that wasn’t so with Jeralt’s crew. Nobles in the Alliance actually seemed to favor hiring them for that very reason. If they could manage to hire him at all that is. The man had a reputation to be picky when it came to selecting jobs. Claude would really have to work his charm on this one to ensure he could secure another tool for his belt. Or perhaps another three tools…

The unexpected addition of the twins added more temptation to the plate. He had had the opportunity to see both fight, albeit briefly. Their skill was astounding. If Claude could secure the father, he was certain the twins would follow. Benson the type to be won over, it would take Claude some time to figure out what made that guy tick, but at the very least he seemed to be direct. The future Leicester lord enjoyed dealing with the straight path of someone direct now and again. It was a nice break from the twisting and turning plots he always found himself in.

While Benson seemed at first glance to be the powerhouse of the duo, with more time to observe them, Claude wasn’t so sure anymore. Byleth’s skill in archery was perfection, and that Almyran bow had drawn his attention almost immediately. He hadn’t seen one in years and wouldn’t have expected to meet a skilled user of one in Fodlan. Edelgard had also mentioned a neat little magic trick Byleth had used while brawling. It was a combination of skills Claude hadn’t heard of before, and he was eager to witness it firsthand. Beyond the combat, there was the way she observed the world. Simply put, she watched him the way he watched other people. It wasn’t often Claude found himself under the same scrutiny he subjected everyone else to. It might have been unsettling if he weren’t so intrigued by it. The woman just had something about her that drew him in.

Claude stopped his newest train of thought in its tracks. _No, not drawn in by her… INTRIGUED by her. Not even her. It’s really just the Almyran bow that makes her so interesting. Probably._

He shook his head sharply, attempting to clear the thought from his mind. He had reached the dining hall anyway. With a warm smile and flattering words Claude begged some apples from the servers. They obliged, and breakfast in hand, he was on his way again.

On the path between the dining hall and the Golden Deer classroom Claude abruptly took a sharp left into the dining hall gardens. A pair of figures had caught his eye and he simply could not bring himself to resist.

Striding into the garden area with long steps Claude called out a greeting, “Well if it isn’t my favorite strangers. What are you guys up to this fine morning?”

Benson and Byleth looked up from their hushed conversation together. Their faces were a mask that gave no clue to what they might have been talking about, though from the cadence of their previous whispering, Claude thought it might have been something stressful to the pair.

Byleth looked towards Benson, but he didn’t seem eager to talk. She sighed softly and answered Claude herself, “We were just discussing a slight… change of plans. I’m sure you’ll be aware of it all too soon.”

“Oh?” Claude’s ears perked up to the information that he honestly hadn’t expected her to share in the first place. “And what does this change of plans entail?”

“Why don’t you go meet your new _professor_ and find out?” Benson practically spit the word professor out at Claude and turned to leave the conversation abruptly. Byleth’s mouth tightened as she watched him go.

“You’ll have to excuse him. He doesn’t like to stay in one place for long.”

Claude’s emerald eyes brightened, and a chorus in his mind cheered. “You’ll be staying here? For how long? You aren’t our new professor, are you?” The last question was thrown out as a joke, and while it didn’t draw out a laugh, the corner of Byleth’s mouth did twitch up ever so slightly. Claude would take it; she did make for a tough crowd after all.

“Yes, it seems we will be here at the academy for the rest of the school year. Our father accepted an offer to teach, we just found out this morning. I think he will be your professor as a matter of fact. You’re in the golden house, are you not?” Her head tilted slightly to the side and rested on her fist. Her large eyes were inquisitive.

“You could say that. I’m house leader of the Golden Deer this year. We certainly have hit the lottery to score the Blade Breaker as our professor.” Claude tried out one of his cheekier smiles on Byleth now that he had her talking. Maybe he would be able to start pulling her to his side sooner rather than later… “And what about you? Do I have the honor of speaking with our future teacher’s aide?”

The cheeky grin must have backfired, because the blank mask was back again, like a gate being slammed down to his advance. “I hardly think so. I’m just a mercenary, and I really should go find my brother now.” Her jacket flipped behind her as she hastily retreated.

Claude stood in silence for a moment and ran his hand through his already messy hair. He sure hoped Jeralt liked him better than his kids did. Two people bailing on his attempts to charm was bad enough, he wasn’t sure if he could handle a third.

With a deep sigh Claude continued on to his classroom. It wouldn’t do to be late when he already had his work cut out for him.

***

Jeralt wrote heavily on the blackboard at the front of the room. Part of it was from the natural strength he bore in his large frame, but more so it was due to the cold reception his children had to the new job.

They didn’t understand how little of a choice he had in the issue. How could they understand when Jeralt hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell them anything beyond the basics? They still didn’t even know that their mother’s tombstone rested in this very monastery…

Jeralt firmly pushed away the sadness that threatened to claw into his mind at the thought of his late wife… Sitri…

_No, now isn’t the time for that._

Stepping away from the board, Jeralt revealed his writing to the students. It was a set of class trees, starting at beginner, and branching out to different master classes. Some of the paths in the tree overlapped, though generally there were four distinct sections.

“Myrmidon. Soldier. Fighter. Monk.” Each word was a verbal punch that drew in the classroom’s gaze. The small amount of chatter that had filled the room as he wrote abruptly stopped. “You have to know where you are going before you can know what the first step you take needs to be.” Jeralt surveyed the room with a serious gaze. He turned to a purple headed youth at the front of the class.

“Bowl Cut, what about you? What is your end goal?”

The student in question sputtered as the rest of the class attempted to stifle their laughter with little success.

“I- I BEG your PARDON?! The name is Lorenz!”

Jeralt waved the protest away. “Yeah yeah, I’m sure it is. Just spit it out, what’s your end goal?”

The young man fumed, his face turning red enough to match the large rose he had pinned to his chest.

Through gritted teeth he answered, “I will be a Great Knight, a class suited to leading House Gloucester to prosperity.”

Jeralt ignored the hostility held in the purple haired man’s words. He simply nodded as he wrote Lorenz’s name under the ‘Soldier’ path of the class tree.

Perhaps for the sake of contrariness, Lorenz blurted out, “Wouldn’t the Fighter path be more appropriate to becoming a Great Knight?”

Jeralt chuckled and said, “You don’t look like you could handle the armor, kid.” Before the snickering of the class gained too much momentum, Jeralt moved on to his next victim. “Alright Spectacles, what do you got for me.”

The glasses wearing student didn’t attempt to correct Jeralt as Lorenz had. “I’d like to be a B-Bow Knight. If… uh… if that’s okay with you sir.”

Jeralt looked a little thrown by the answer. “Are you… asking me?”

“Well, yes sir. You’re my professor after all. I just thought maybe—”

“You shouldn’t give two flying craps who I am when it comes to deciding your path in life. If you want to be a Bow Knight, be a Bow Knight! Given you have a smaller build I actually think it’s one of the better options for you.” Jeralt went to write the youth’s name and paused for a second before looking back at him over his shoulder. “Well, are you going to tell me your name or should I write ‘Spectacles’ up here?”

“Oh, ah… It’s Ignatz, sir.”

Jeralt sighed heavily and wrote the name under the ‘Fighter’ path. “Enough with the ‘sir’ business, okay kid?”

“Yes si—Professor?”

Another sigh. “That’s better I guess.” Jeralt continued to move through the rest of the class.

“Lysithea… weird name, but okay. Monk.”

“No, you can’t just be a cheerleader, I’m putting you down as a Fighter, Hilda. Suck it up.”

“You’re going to have to speak louder kid… what? … Marianne? Okay, Monk it is.”

“ _You’re_ going to have to speak quieter. Jeez Raphael, no need to make sure the Blue Lions next door hear you. Fighter works.”

“Of course, I remember you, Leonie, and yes, we will continue your training to become a Soldier.”

“You’re interested in wyverns, huh? Okay, let’s get you started as a Fighter then, Claude. You’ll need to brush up on that axe work though, if that’s the route you want to take.”

The class murmured excitedly about their new training paths as Jeralt continued the lesson on through the basics. The sun moved through the sky quickly, as he spewed knowledge hard won from experience to the eager men and women before him. It didn’t feel like long before their morning class time was drawing to an end.

“I’ll be your primary professor, but there will be times where we break up and regroup with other classes for specialized lessons and seminars. These will be more focused on your weapons of choice. Lady Rhea was telling me you guys have a battle coming up with the other houses, so until then our morning classes will focus on strategizing for the mock battle. I’ve been a mercenary for many years now, and out there you die when you lose.” The class stared at him apprehensively, unsure where he was going with this. “I’ve found it’s an excellent motivator. Now you guys need to get it in your heads that even though your lives are not on the line for this battle… the next battle? They just might be.” Jeralt’s voice was dead serious and he took the time to level his stern gaze at each of the students in turn. “I can’t kill you guys if you lose this mock battle… but trust me when I say, the training you will have to go through if you don’t win this month… you might just wish I could.”

A hush gathered in the classroom at the end of his words. Only the slightest sounds of birds from outside the window dared to break the silence within.

Jeralt gave one booming clap of his hands, making half the students jump in their seats. “Alright, I think this was a good first lesson. Class dismissed. Read the chapters on basic battle formations in your tactics book and be prepared to strategize for tomorrow’s class.” His smile was at odds with the serious declaration he had been making not even 5 minutes before hand. From the looks of fear that still lingered on some of the jumpier students’ faces, Jeralt started to think that he might just grow to enjoy this job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given this story is told in the 3rd person, I had intended initially to only follow Benson, Byleth, and Jeralt around for clarity's sake... but I'm not sure I can resist taking a closer look into our three house leader's lives as appropriate. If it threw you off as a reader switching into Claude's section of the story PLEASE let me know so I can either work on making the transition better, or just stick with the Eisner family going forward.
> 
> Also, I've been wondering for anyone who feels like commenting... is it clear who's thought are being indicated by the italicized sections? Since we are getting to look at multiple character's thoughts throughout this story I don't want that to be confusing as to who is "talking".
> 
> Anyway, if you made it this far, thank you for reading <3


	7. Two Among Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a long first day of classes, what can I say?

Byleth found her brother out on the dock of the monastery pond. She settled down to sit beside him, leaning back on her hands with her face towards the sky to soak up the sun’s warmth.

“Are you still upset?”

Benson sighed. “I am. This doesn’t feel right, Byleth. I don’t think we should be here. If feels like everyone is plotting something, or just trying to figure out a way to use us. We should go, maybe slip out tonight while everyone sleeps.”

“I understand how you’re feeling, and to an extent I feel it, too. I don’t think we can just leave like that though. Think about it, why would Jeralt accept this job out of nowhere? We already had something lined up in the Kingdom before we wound up here. I think there is more he isn’t telling us, Benson.”

“You think Jeralt is keeping secrets from us?”

“Maybe…” Byleth met Benson’s steady eyes as they searched her face. “I think there is more we don’t know, and maybe he just hasn’t gotten the chance to tell us about it. Things got pretty crazy when those nobles showed up, I’ve hardly had time to take it all in.”

Benson picked up a small pebble from the dock and flicked it into the still water. He watched it sink into the blue depths before him and nodded to Byleth’s words. “You’re right. There’s definitely more to this whole place than meets the eye. We have to figure out what it is before…” Benson let out his breath sharply. “I don’t really know before what to be honest. This place just doesn’t feel—”

“—safe.” Byleth put her hand in Benson’s and squeezed it lightly in reassurance. “We’ll be okay, we just need a plan. Jeralt will be busy with those brats he’s attempting to train, so a lot of the leg work is going to fall on us. I imagine between helping him with missions given to him by the archbishop we will have a lot of free time to snoop around. We need to do some reconnaissance.”

“Agreed. I’d feel a lot better if I had a good map of this place. That should probably fall to you. You’re much better at sneaking around than I am.”

Byleth nodded in agreement. “Okay, I can do that. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a secret passageway or two hidden around here as well. But Benson, we need more than a layout of this place physically… we need to understand the players in the game. There are a lot of people here, and we need to know who we are dealing with.” She looked at her brother pointedly.

Begrudgingly Benson agreed. “I know, I know. We’ll be better off if I stop sulking about being here and started ‘making friends’.” Byleth could all but hear the air quotes in his words. Like her, Benson wasn’t a big fan of socializing outside of the mercenary group, but he could pull off a passable attempt at charisma when needed. “I guess we have our jobs then.” He stood and brushed himself off before helping his sister to her feet beside him. “I’m going to go check in with Jeralt, see if he’s killed any of those kids yet.”

Byleth raised an eyebrow at her brother. Sometimes she wondered if he tried to sound like Jeralt on purpose, what with calling people practically their own age ‘kids’. She let it drop though, he was on edge enough without her teasing. “Sounds good. I’ll be checking in on the crew if you need me.”

***

The mapping of the monastery began with many failed attempts at finding where the battalions were housed. There were a surprising about of back alleys that twisted through the monastery and could confuse all but the most directionally inspired individuals. Luckily Byleth was one of those people.

She kept her focus and was able to build quite a bit into her mental map of the place before finally recognizing the general uproar and chaos Jeralt’s band of mercenaries tended to create. Byleth entered a long room full of beds, and small sets of tables and chairs. There was a roaring fireplace that made the barrack like room feel much homier than it should. The dozen men and women Jeralt employed were scattered throughout the room, playing cards, telling stories, and otherwise passing the time before they had to fight again. It wasn’t often they found themselves with so much downtime, and Byleth only hoped it didn’t lead to too much trouble.

A few crew members greeted her as she walked in, but before she could stop to really get pulled into any one conversation, Byleth spotted someone who didn’t belong here. A woman with short raven hair was sitting with another mercenary, playing a simple looking board game with pebbles. She was a small woman, with a petite frame. Despite her size, there was an iron strength to her that intrigued Byleth. She approached the mysterious newcomer and watched the ending of the board game in silence.

The raven-haired woman smiled smugly when she moved the last pebble to what must have been a winning position. The crew member she had been playing, Darrel, threw his hands up in exasperation and cursed before noticing Byleth’s presence next to them.

“Ah! Thank the goddess, someone to save me from my misery. Do me a favor, would you Byleth? Beat this foul woman who has invaded our ranks.” He got up from his seat and tossed two coins to his opponent, who caught them both in the air. She looked to Byleth and gestured to the newly vacated seat across the board from her.

Byleth enjoyed a good game of tactics, so she settled into the chair and watched as the woman cleared the board.

“My name’s Shamir. Is this your crew?” She glanced up at Byleth curiously, the smile of recent victory still on her lips.

Byleth shrugged a shoulder. “Not quiet. This is my father’s crew. Why do you ask? Not looking for a job, are you?”

Shamir laughed openly at the suggestion. “Maybe another day. At the moment I find myself already employed by the Lady Rhea herself.”

Byleth added the information to the fine archer’s garb the woman was wearing. She was clearly a fighter, so that left only one job she could possibly be doing here. “You’re a knight?”

“That is correct. But I think the more important question for the moment is, do you play?” Shamir gestured to the board before her. It was blank now, and there was a small pile of white pebbles in front of Byleth and black pebbles in front of Shamir.

“No, can’t say I’ve seen this game before.”

“Ah, then I suppose we should wait a few rounds before putting money on it.”

Byleth narrowed her eyes at the confidence in the statement. Defiantly she pulled a gold coin from her pouch and set it on the table with a metallic click. Shamir appraised her carefully and must have liked what she saw. She smiled easily and set a matching coin of her own on the table before proceeding to explain how the game was played. It was simple in function, though clearly could become quite a battlefield of wits depending on the pair playing. It was a cat and mouse game with each player taking turns to place a pebble down, attempting to trap each other between their own pebbles, while escaping capture themselves. Once all the pebbles were played the game shifted to a second phase where the pieces could now be moved around the board. Shamir and Byleth played intently, moving and countering each other quickly, both women having their minds four moves ahead of what was on the board. The game drew to a close with the final black pebble being captured. Shamir stared at her loss for a moment before meeting Byleth’s eyes again, the smug smile was gone, but replaced with a warm one now.

“Pretty good for a beginner. Tell me, did I just get hustled?”

Byleth closed her hand on the two gold coins on the table and slid them into the pouch on her hip. “I wouldn’t dare hustle someone as dangerous looking as you.” Her words were spoken flatly, and to some it might have sounded like a taunt, but Shamir heard the tones of jest beneath the words. She laughed again and cleared the board.

“I’d say that’s smart on your part. Let’s go again.”

They played a few more games, speaking occasionally here and there. They went back and forth as victor, seeming to be evenly matched. Byleth loosened up and began to enjoy the games played with this new woman. She liked the strategy, but also the easy silence. A fair amount of time passed before she remembered she was supposed to be gathering intel from the monastery folks, not just playing games.

“Do knights in the monastery often spend their free time playing games with mercenaries?”

Shamir’s eyes darted up from the board to Byleth for a second, surprised by the inquiry. She moved her piece, then answered. “No, I wouldn’t say so. I might be the only one in fact. I’m more comfortable here than in the Knight’s Hall, a remnant of being a mercenary myself I suppose.”

It was Byleth’s turn to glance up at Shamir in surprise. “You used to be a mercenary?”

Shamir nodded. “I was. My family had nothing when I was growing up. There were too many mouths to feed, so I left. Joined up with some mercs for the pay. The work suited me, but I never liked having to bow and scrape to our noble employers.”

Byleth nodded as if that made perfect sense to her. Seemingly encouraged by talking to someone who understood, Shamir continued. “That's what I like about being a Knight. I get to punch all the nobles I want.” Byleth couldn’t help the snort she gave at that. “Hah! I'm joking. But the knights do make a good business partner.”

This peaked Byleth’s interest. “Business partner?”

“I don't believe in the Church of Seiros. It makes me a bit of an anomaly among the knights. Rhea took me in, so I became a knight to repay my debt to her. I may be a knight, but it still feels like I'm doing the same things I did as a merc.” Shamir shrugged nonchalantly, as though she truly didn’t see a difference in the two jobs.

Byleth hadn’t expected to find someone who felt so familiar behind these stone walls.

“Yeah, I don’t know much about the church really… but it seems to me fighting is fighting, and if someone is paying you to fight? Well, we all start to look pretty similar to me.”

Shamir nodded and looked at Byleth intently. “Maybe you and I will end up working together.”

“Well, if you have a mission with Jeralt we just might. Our crew will be serving as his battalion, so I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” With that, Shamir moved the pebble in her hand across the board, cornering Byleth into another loss. Byleth studied the board, working backwards in her head to find exactly which move had led to this defeat. Once she found her answer she began clearing the board, and the two fell into another companionable silence as they played again.

***

Benson stuffed down the irritation he felt when Jeralt made his request. It seemed the twins wouldn’t have quite as much free time as they had initially thought. Benson found Byleth in the crew’s barracks playing some game with a woman he didn’t recognize. Byleth made quick introductions and he was surprised by how familiar his sister seemed to be with the woman in such a short amount of time. He moved past the thought and filled Byleth in on their new task. It seemed Jeralt was wanting them to assist in his class’s afternoon training. Byleth showed about as much excitement as he had towards the prospect, which is to say none.

She excused herself from Shamir and followed Benson to the training grounds of the monastery. The entire Golden Deer class was already there, wearing light training outfits that had the unfortunate effect of making them look like they were trying out for some sports team, rather than training to potentially take someone’s life on the battlefield.

Their entrance was silent, and most of the students kept their attention on Jeralt as he lectured them on weapon safety. It was a given that Claude wouldn’t have missed their approach, however, it seemed they had also drawn the attention of the pink pigtail wearing woman named Hilda. Her gaze was deceptively focused considering the lazy way she lounged on the training ground steps.

Benson stopped to the right of Jeralt, and Byleth to the left. They waited for his lecture to finish, and for the real instruction to begin.

“Alright, I need to see how you handle your weapons. I can’t keep an eye on all of you at once, and you’re probably too stupid to work on your own without just making your bad habits worse. Today Benson and Byleth here will be helping us out. You listen to what they say as if I were saying it. If you disagree with them on something, remember this, they are right, and you are wrong.” His eyes lingered on Lorenz, who was already bristling. The rest of the class seemed to be intrigued by the pair who were so close in age to themselves.

Jeralt pointed heavily to the students as he called their names. “Lysithea, Marianne, let Byleth watch you. Hilda, Claude, go with Benson. I’ll start with Lorenz and Leonie.” The upset outcry from Raphael at being left out with Ignatz was swiftly cut off. “Don’t throw a fit, you two will be subbed in shortly. Just do some warm-ups until we rotate.” Raphael seemed to accept this and headed over to the weights to do what could loosely be considered a warm-up, but for most was probably a full work out.

Hilda looked longingly at the place Ignatz sat before accepting her fate. She hefted a wooden axe over her shoulder and stalked towards Claude and Benson.

“I thought you preferred your precious bow, Claude?”

Claude waved one hand as if to bat the words away while he leaned on his axe with the other. “Ah Hilda, you should know better than anyone that the future Sovereign Duke of the Alliance has to be well roun—”

His words were cut short by a yelp as he fell to the floor. Claude looked up at the man who had just kicked out the axe that had previously been supporting his weight. Benson’s expression was stoic, but Hilda fell into a fit of laughter. She was practically doubled over. It was a bit excessive if you asked Claude.

“Less leaning, more fighting.” Benson caught his sister’s glare from across the room, then remembered he was supposed to be playing nice with these people. He sighed internally and held out his hand to help Claude up. The young man was surprised by the offer, but took it all the same, brushing the dirt off his clothes once he regained his feet. He looked at Benson cautiously before turning his back to him to face Hilda fully.

The pair circled each other as Benson noted their technique. He was about to give a reprimand for the loose hold Hilda had on her axe when the woman suddenly yelled and the relaxed grip easily flipped the weapon around, cutting at an unexpected angle towards Claude’s torso. He jumped back quickly, narrowly avoiding the swing. As his back foot made contact with the ground, he was launching himself into a counterattack, taking advantage of Hilda’s missed swing that left her slightly off balance. Benson was pleased to find the pair of students weren’t just attacking each other aimlessly. As the spar continued Claude returned time and again to his wit and timing to get hits in on Hilda, while she in turn kept him guessing with her deceptively relaxed fighting style that always seemed to hide the true intentions of her next swing.

He let them continue, giving pointers when appropriate. Claude seemed to be slowly gaining the upper hand as the mask Hilda was using for her attacks became easier for him to read. Benson paused the spar to whisper in Hilda’s ear, “Next time he dodges you, tackle him.”

Hilda jerked her head in surprise, then smiled wickedly and nodded, advancing on Claude like a hunter who had found her prey.

“Um… Hilda, I don’t like that look. You aren’t allowed to kill me, you know?” Claude backed away from the woman carefully and the circling began again.

This time when Hilda went to swing and saw Claude jump agilely away from her blade, she let go of the handle completely and allowed all her weight to continue forward, her shoulder dropping into Claude’s gut. His breath left in a rush and he found himself sprawled on the ground yet again. Before he had time to remember how to breath, Hilda had him successfully pinned. She smiled devilishly, “Do you yield Claude?” Her voice was entirely too sweet to belong to the body that had just bulldozed him to the ground.

“Yeah, I yield,” he groused. “Though I did think this was supposed to be an axe fight, not a brawl…” He shot a look at Benson now, putting two and two together that his downfall had to do with what was whispered earlier.

Benson shrugged, “A fight is a fight.”

Claude laughed in the lighthearted way he had. “I guess you’re right. Okay… let’s go again.” He picked his axe up from the ground and squared up to Hilda. “I’d love to see you try that trick again!”

Before the two could fall into another spar Jeralt tapped Claude on his shoulder. “Take a break, kid, Raphael is coming in. Hilda, I’m happy to see you have an affinity towards brawling. Why don’t you give it a try with Raphael?”

“Awww, come on professor! I’m hardly a challenge for that big guy, you might as well send me to the infirmary now!”

Jeralt purposefully ignored Hilda’s protests and went back to training his new pair, Ignatz and Leonie.

Huffing, Hilda tried her luck with Benson. “You’re not seriously going to have me brawl with him, are you Benson?” She practically sang his name, trying to appeal to his softer side. For a second she thought it had worked when he called Byleth over.

Stepping away from the two magic users Byleth trotted to her brother’s side, curious as to why she might have been called.

“Byleth, would you mind pinning this guy real quick? Pigtails here thinks it can’t be done because he is so big.”

Hearing what Benson was suggesting Raphael laughed. “I think I’ll have to agree with Hilda on this one. I’m sure you’re talented and all, Byleth, but have you seen these muscles?!” Raphael flexed, and managed to further a tear that had already started in one of the sleeves across his bicep.

Byleth appraised the man before her and just nodded, shifting into a grappler’s stance in front of him.

Benson pulled Hilda away from the pair and quietly pointed out Byleth’s techniques as she used them. Hilda watched with amusement.

The pair collided when Byleth feigned to the right and allowed Raphael to chase her. He eagerly lunged in trying to punch her where she was heading. When he advanced Byleth shifted quickly to the left ducking under his punch and solidly grasping Raphael’s leg behind his knee. Using her entire body, Byleth launched up, still holding tightly behind Raphael’s knee and causing him to lose his balance. As she lifted his leg further up the large man couldn’t avoid tipping backwards and falling heavily. When he made contact with the ground, Byleth was impressed to see his quick reaction to the new position. He went to capture her legs, which were the closest thing to him. Keeping her center of gravity low Byleth allowed Raphael to grab hold of her right leg as she moved over him and leaned heavily into his left arm. She managed to pull his wrist back, so his entire arm was at a painful angle to his body. Byleth’s left leg dug into his back, and the purchase Raphael had on her right leg that stretched over his body was entirely useless. He was laughing boisterously as he tapped out, rubbing his sore arm once released from the hold.

“Alright, I guess it’s about more than just muscle…” Raphael’s eyes were lit up and he looked hungry for a rematch. “Until I get strong enough to break that fancy hold of yours that is!”

Byleth clapped Raphael on the back. “You could be the strongest man in the world and you still wouldn’t be able to break out of some holds. I’d suggest not letting yourself get into them in the first place.” Byleth looked towards Benson and saw him nod his thanks. She took it as her cue to leave and went to rejoin the magic users she had previously been instructing. As she walked back towards them, she passed the now lounging form of Claude.

“Nice moves Stranger, I can’t wait till it’s my turn to brawl with you.” He spoke the low words with a wink and Byleth quickly turned away. Her cheeks felt warm, a sensation she was entirely unfamiliar with.

“That must have been a tough fight, you look flushed.” Lysithea spoke once Byleth reached them. She was surprised by the observation and rested her hand on her cheek lightly.

“Oh, yes, well never underestimate your opponent. Now, where were we?” Byleth quickly diverted the conversation back to the magic she was attempting to help the two young ladies manipulate. She was relieved Sothis was either asleep or stuck in Benson’s head today, she didn’t think she could handle the extra input on this new feeling stirring in her gut. She was… flustered? She wasn’t entirely sure, but she didn’t like it. Burying the feeling back down she focused in on her work and lost herself to the easy rhythm of combat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a bit of writers block on this one, just with the in between stage of meeting SO many new people. I enjoy writing these relationship dynamics though, so hopefully that's what everyone else is here for as well ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	8. Shadows in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benson and Byleth put their plan to gather information into action...

It was the first free day for the Officers Academy after a long week of classes. Benson and Byleth had been recruited to help Jeralt on multiple occasions by this point. The way Jeralt utilized them was reminiscent of how the trio managed the mercenary crew together. They fell into a rhythm over the week, one they all knew by heart. It was comfortable in a way, but also set Benson further on edge. He didn’t want to get comfortable here, or even be here at all. He knew there were threats hidden within these walls, he and Byleth just had to find them.

Today was the first day they were free to put their recognizance plan in motion. Byleth was scouting around the monastery and Benson was going to put his ear to the ground and see what gossip he could pull out of the other houses. Normally he would start this kind of mission in a tavern, but here, the dinning hall would have to do.

There were random students spread throughout the dinning hall, but it didn’t take long for Benson to spy one he was looking for. Edelgard sat with a brooding man, picking at the meal in front of her. The one sitting with her must be Hubert. Benson had heard of him in passing from the Golden Deer students during training. The consensus seemed to be that he was ‘creepy’.

**I have to say, seeing him in person like this… I think the little deers are right. Something about that man does not sit well with me.**

Benson managed to hide his start of surprise at the last second. As he grabbed his food, he thought intensely back at Sothis.

_If you’re going to be in my brain today, I would really appreciate it if you’d be quiet. I need information from those two and that would be a lot easier without you piping up._

He practically felt Sothis sigh as she responded, **I should have gone with Byleth today. You are much grumpier when you are awake, you know?**

Despite her protest Benson could feel Sothis settling into the back of his thoughts as he approached Edelgard and her lacky. The two students looked up from their hushed conversation as he came to a stop in front of them.

Edelgard smiled politely at him, “Ah, if it isn’t one of the talented duo. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“It seemed about time I got to know the house leaders around here,” Benson casually replied, “now that our stay in the monastery seems to be a more permanent condition.”

“Ah yes, what with Jeralt accepting the teaching position here… Pity.” She looked down to her food and began picking at it again. Hubert kept a careful watch on Benson’s reaction. He was sorely disappointed, as Benson had long ago learned to properly school his face into an indifferent mask when picking a conversation for information.

Rather than taking Edelgard’s bait, Benson simply waited for her to continue. He was curious about her statement but was happy to let her reveal her cards without his prompting.

Edelgard slowly chewed the bite she had taken before speaking again, as Benson knew she would. “I was hoping you would lend your strength to the Empire. Before too long I’ll be beginning my rule, and I’d hate to see a talent such as yours lost to the backlogs of history, or worst yet not written down at all.” She tilted her head as though she were sincerely concerned over the idea.

“I can’t say I’ve ever aspired to be in a dusty old history book, though after this… who knows. Maybe I’ll find myself in need of a job.” Benson shrugged and returned to his own plate.

Hubert curled his hands into fists and spoke in a deep, low drawl, like a snake slithering onto the dinning table they were sitting at. “To serve her highness and the grand Adrestian Empire is not a _job_ , but a calling. You could only hope to be so honored as to be given an offer as the one Edelgard has presented to you.”

Benson’s cold eyes stared steadily at Hubert, not backing down at his stiff tone. He forced a light smile onto his face and looked back to Edelgard, while he spoke to Hubert. “Well, if that’s the case I can hope her highness sees fit to spare me a beheading and forgives my insolence.”

Chuckling lightly Edelgard replied, “Oh, you would be of even less use to me without a head, I can assure you.”

Benson was pleased with the way Edelgard easily moved past her retainer's aggression. It seemed she wasn’t one to give in to his foul mood that encircled them. Benson had seen types like Hubert before. Overzealous of their masters and, more often than not, a little in love with them. _I wonder…_ Benson thought, glancing out the corner of his eye at Hubert. _It wouldn’t be a bad bet with this one._

Deciding the best course of action was to ignore Hubert for the time being Benson focused his attention back onto Edelgard. “Well then, for as long as we are both in this monastery together, maybe you can tell me a bit about the place?”

If Edelgard were surprised to be eating lunch with this seemingly friendlier version of Benson she gave no show of it. Instead, she began rattling off little tid-bits and facts about her house and the students within it. It was par for the course for these leader types to start with their followers when given the chance to talk. Benson was expecting he would have to bide his time until she let anything that was actually interesting out in the conversation.

Hubert, Ferdinand, Linhardt, Caspar, Bernadetta, Dorothea, and Petra. She went on an on about them and their fighting styles, personalities, quirks. She had a clear passion for her classmates and their development. When Edelgard took a break to breath Benson quickly interrupted her.

“And what about you?” He leaned in at the table in a way he hoped came across as sincere interest.

“Me? Well...some think I'm a bit distant. Arrogant, even. But there's little to be done. One day, I must rise to become Adrestia's next emperor. What else... Well, it seems to me that we may have similar personalities.”

“Hmm… I find myself surprised to say I agree, but maybe not in those words. What some call arrogance is really self-assurance when in the hands of a good leader.”

Benson felt Sothis stirring in the back of his mind, clearly wondering at his intent.

_What? A little compliment never hurt anybody. And I feel like this one has a lot to say, if I can just keep her talking._

Edelgard looked pleased at his statement, emboldening Benson to continue his discrete investigation.

“I wonder, what of Rhea? I haven’t had the chance to meet her directly, but it seems she is highly regarded here at the monastery.”

Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Edelgard responded, but watched Benson closely as she did. “The Lady Rhea is a strong leader of the church, and she inspires intense loyalty from her followers. What with Jeralt having served her as Captain in the past, and serving again now as a professor… I must confess I’m surprised to hear you don’t know much about her.”

“Working as a mercenary doesn’t lend itself well to leading a devout lifestyle. I’ve of course heard of the Church of Seiros before, and vaguely understand them to be followers of some goddess or another, but beyond that?” Benson shrugged. “Well, let’s just say I’d rather spend my time training than praying. Makes me a lot less likely to die that way.”

Edelgard cocked her head. “And why the interest now?”

Spreading his hands out to gesture to either side of him, Benson answered simply, “when in a stranger’s home…”

“…join them in their meal.” Edelgard finished the old saying for him. It was something mothers told their children when trying to teach them to be polite and fit in with the new people they meet in their lives. Food varied so much from one region to another that it often was the first indicator that you didn’t belong somewhere, which is probably what gave rise to the silly saying in the first place.

“Well Benson, I would love to continue this discussion at a later date. For now, however, Hubert and I must be leaving. We have some more strategizing to do in preparation for the mock battle.”

“Isn’t it supposed to be your day off?”

“There are no days off when planning for victory.” Edelgard rose from the table and turned to go, before stopping herself and throwing back over her shoulder casually, “Maybe we would have more time to speak together if you were to join the Black Eagles on a mission sometime?”

Benson saw her offer for what it was. She was laying bait again, but this time it was tempting. If he wanted any real information from Edelgard he was going to have to help her as well. She probably saw this as an opportunity to acclimatize him to the idea of serving under her, even if it would only be temporarily during a mission. Benson considered carefully but saw no downside to playing her game… for now.

“How can I refuse? Hubert here might smite me if I dared tell you no for a second time.” He was pleased to hear her laughing softly again at his light jest at her retainer’s expense. She was someone who had a carefully constructed wall around herself to keep others out, but maybe he could find a crack or two in it after all.

She walked away with the promise of future conversations in hand. Hubert followed irritably, but silently. It was possible he was waiting to voice his objections once they were alone, but Benson wasn’t concerned. If Edelgard felt she had a chance of acquiring another strong and faithful follower in the long game, he was sure she would bring Hubert in line.

“Hello, Benson?”

A voice came from behind his back, startling him out of his thoughts. Normally Byleth was there to watch his back for him, but he would swiftly have to get used to doing the job himself. Silently Benson berated himself for the careless slip as he turned to face the newcomer.

_Two for two, I wonder what Dimitri wants?_

The blonde man stood formally before him, waiting for a response. Despite his steady posture there was a nervous energy about him.

“Dimitri, care to join me? I’m just finishing up my meal.”

The invitation to sit was taken quickly, and Dimitri dropped down next to Benson. He had no food in hand, so was clearly here solely to have a word with the mercenary. Benson was intrigued but waited for Dimitri to voice his intentions.

The Blue Lion’s deep voice rumbled, “Thank you, Benson. I apologize for intruding on your meal. I was going to speak with you some other time, but I saw Edelgard leave… and…” the sentence trailed off and Dimitri fidgeted in his seat.

Benson buried the urge to prolong the prince’s discomfort and chose to extend the olive branch to him as well. While Edelgard was clearly the more cunning of the two, it was always good to get multiple angles when digging for information.

“Can I help you with something, Dimitri?”

“Ah, yes. Well… um. You see I was hoping to ask if Byleth would be available to help me with something? There are these children that the monastery takes in… orphans. They get an education here and even have a chance at weapons training. I’ve volunteered to help them with their training, and I can of course teach them the lance and sword and such, but I thought maybe Byleth could help me with their bow and brawling lesson” Once he had started, Dimitri seemed intent to get the entire proposition out in a rush.

Benson stared at the man for a moment. Whatever he had been expecting, a charity case for orphans had not been it. “And you’re asking me on Byleth’s behalf because…?” He let the question hang in the air and waited for Dimitri to fill in the blank.

His cheeks flushed slightly when Byleth’s name was mentioned. “Well, she seems to be rather reclusive. I’ve been trying to ask her all week and have only managed to spot her in passing. I thought since you were here, maybe you could pass on the request for me?” Dimitri was practically holding his breath waiting on Benson’s response. The prospect of having to ask Byleth for assistance through the historically cold brother of hers was clearly taking its toll on Dimitri.

Benson considered the situation happily. If he could pass Dimitri on to his sister, it was one less person he would have to befriend in this place. The man had even asked for her specifically! Byleth could hardly hold it against Benson if he left her the task of getting information out of Dimitri.

With his decision made, Benson clapped Dimitri on the shoulder. “Of course, I’m sure Byleth would be happy to help you and the little orphans out. She loves children.” She didn’t, but that just sweetened the deal further for Benson.

Relief bloomed across Dimitri’s face. “She will? She does? Oh, that’s great. I really appreciate your help with this. I’ve already finished working with the kids this morning, but maybe she can help me next week?”

Benson nodded, “I’ll ask her about it this evening. I’m sure she’ll find you to iron out the details soon.”

Satisfaction slipped into self-consciousness again as Dimitri finally got around to considering the potential social gaff he was committing. “Oh, and uh… you can of course join as well if you would be interested in helping?”

Shaking his head quickly and gathering his plate Benson refused the offer. “I don’t think so Dimitri, I’m positive your prowess with the sword will be more than enough to teach the children. I would only be getting in the way.” He quite literally bowed out of the conversation before Dimitri could be tempted to insist that he join. The blonde seemed to accept the refusal quickly and allowed Benson to leave.

**That boy seems unusually interested in Byleth.**

_You’re telling me._

**I wonder why that is.**

_The poor sap probably thinks he stands a chance with her. It happens often enough when we’re traveling through towns._

Benson thought through some past encounters for Sothis. There would occasionally be a man in some tavern or another who would brave past Byleth’s icy exterior and seek her attention. It wasn’t often they were successful at piquing her interest, and in Benson’s mind, a boring guy like Dimitri didn’t stand a chance.

**I would not be too sure about that.**

Benson paused at Sothis’s thought. His first instinct was to dismiss the interjection, but the girl _had_ been spending a fair amount of time in Byleth’s head… was he missing something?

His customary scowl returned to his face as he stalked back to his room. Leave it to the disembodied voice in his head to ruin the perfectly good day he had been having.

***

There were two soft knocks on Byleth’s door, then a pause followed by a third knock.

“Come in.” She called, knowing the visitor had to be either Benson or Jeralt. Sure enough, her brother entered the small dorm room, closing the door quickly behind him and settling into the desk chair. Byleth barely glanced up at him and continued getting ready for her outing. She drew her hair into a low bun, ensuring it wouldn’t fall into her eyes while scouting. She slipped on her dark cloak that appeared needlessly patchy to most but did wonders to break up the outline of her body when hiding in shadows.

“I take it you found a location of interest earlier today. Where are you going that needs the cover of night?”

“The library. I was exploring the upper floors and noticed a suspiciously proper collection was kept there. The selection felt too curated. I’d be willing to bet there are more books kept somewhere else, and I’m hoping to find them tonight.”

“I see. Seems as good of a place to start as any.”

“What about you? Did you make any progress today?”

Benson leaned back in the chair and recounted the conversation he had with Edelgard and Hubert earlier that day.

Nodding approval Byleth said, “That’s good. You’ll have to be careful around her, but it sounds like she knows something. Now if only we had an in with Dimitri, we would have our bases covered. Do you have a plan for him?”

Benson ran his hand through his hair. “About that…” Byleth stopped her preparations and stared apprehensively at her brother.

“What did you do?”

“It’s not so much what I did, but rather what Dimitri did. It seems our resident prince has asked for your assistance next week in training some of the orphans who are housed here.”

“He asked for MY help?! Why not you? You were right there?” She gestured emphatically at Benson, as though she could somehow retroactively convince Dimitri that her brother was better suited for the job.

He just shrugged his shoulders, “I’m sorry Byleth, there was nothing I could do, he wanted your help.” The smile hiding in the corners of his lips told a different story. She was sure he was just a little too pleased with himself to pass off some of the socialization duties to her. “Besides, you seemed to be getting along just fine with the guy on the way back to the monastery. Sothis thinks so too.”

Byleth groaned in exasperation. “Just what I need, the two of you ganging up on me. It’s not that I _don’t_ like Dimitri, it’s just…”

“You’d rather be hiding somewhere, I know.” Benson’s tone turned more sympathetic. “Look, as much as I love to antagonize you… this is about more than that. For some reason Dimitri is seeking you out, and if it helps us learn more about this place, it’s just something we have to do. For the family.” He rose from his chair and rested a hand on Byleth’s shoulder. “Besides, it’s just one day of the week, and if you absolutely hate it, I’ll bail you out. Like always.”

Standing still, eyes downcast, Byleth thought through the situation. Benson was right of course, it would be silly of her to reject the chance to get information from Dimitri, especially when presented with such an easy invitation. She sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll do it.”

“Good. Oh, and one more thing…” Byleth looked up. “I told him you _loved_ children.” Benson had to duck quickly to avoid the punch that came flying towards his head. He let out a bark of laughter and retreated to the door. “Have fun tonight, Byleth!” and he retreated from the room, leaving his sister to her mission.

 _What an absolute annoying idiot. I swear one of these days Jeralt will admit to picking him up off the side of the road._ It was a thought Byleth often had, even though their physical resemblance was enough to disprove her childhood theory. Pushing thoughts on this new development concerning Dimitri to the side, Byleth pulled her hood up and left her room into the dusky evening light of the monastery.

She saw Benson entering his own room by the time she climbed the stairs to the boy’s dormitory courtyard but saw no one else around. Turning quickly to her right Byleth took the more concealed route through the dining hall gardens to get to the shadowy path that skirted the outside of the classroom courtyard, sticking to the deepest shadows under the trees. Her pace was confident and smooth, and her gaze swept carefully around her, continually on the look out for another soul who might stop her. Byleth was out past curfew, and while she was not a student and didn’t necessarily have to follow it, she would rather avoid the attention and questions she was sure her presence would cause.

As she neared the end of the courtyard Byleth became aware of a second set of footsteps behind her. Without looking back, she rounded the corner of the reception hall’s exterior hallway. And tucked herself into a recess of the wall behind a pillar. She listened carefully as the mysterious footsteps drew closer. The paused a distance away, probably as their owner peaked around the corner of the hallway. That confirmed she was indeed being followed on purpose, rather than happenstance. When her pursuer didn’t see her, their footsteps continued and carried them past her hiding place.

 _Claude?!_ He was hardly who she expected and Byleth would have let out a sigh of relief if it not for the fact that doing so would revealed her location. Stepping out from the recess in the wall Byleth didn’t make a noise on the soft leather soles of her shoes. She caught up to the student as he was passing the stairwell that led up to the second floor of the monastery. Moving with lightning speed Byleth clapped her hand over Claude’s mouth and used her other arm to hook across his neck, leveraging his weight backward and into her to keep him off balance as she backed them into the stairwell and out of sight of any passersby.

Claude reacted to being accosted quicker than she would have expected, twisting his body sharply into her grip, rather than away, allowing him to rotate in her hold and regain his feet beneath him. With her leverage lost Byleth pulled her dagger from its hidden sheath and pressed it carefully to Claude’s throat, backing him into the stone wall. She noticed Claude’s hand snaking towards a fold in his clothing that she would guess hid a dagger of his own. Byleth spoke in a low warning, “I really don’t think you should do that.”

The man beneath her blade smiled easily and lifted his hands, palms up in surrender. “You’ve got me, Stranger. Now what are you going to do with me?”

Ignoring his question, Byleth shot back one of her own. “Why were you following me?” Her face was blank and betrayed none of her intentions to the inquisitive eyes that were studying her.

“Curiosity mostly. I know the look of someone who doesn’t want to be seen, and I just couldn’t resist the temptation to learn more about the monastery’s mysterious new arrival.”

Byleth searched his eyes for the truth, ignoring the fake smile he was attempting to hide behind. She thought his words were true enough and moved to take a step back. Releasing him from the threat of her blade. Afterall, it’s not like she could kill the student. Not here in the monastery at least, and not for the simple crime of following her.

“If you were smart, I’d suggest you get your curiosity in check. I don’t much like having my business pried into.”

Claude relaxed a bit, with the pressure of the dagger gone from his throat. His eyes sparkled at her and he leaned in to give a hushed whisper. “What are you looking for anyway?”

“I’m not looking for anything.”

Rolling his eyes, Claude dismissed her denial. “Sure, you aren’t. But if theoretically you were, I might know a guy who could help.” He leaned casually against the wall with his statement and studied Byleth further, waiting for her response.

She weighed her options in her head. The man was schemer to be sure, and no doubt held clues she could use, but Byleth wasn’t one to reveal her intentions to outsiders. Then again, she was just looking for books tonight, that could hardly give away too much to Claude. Books that she hadn’t the slightest clue to their whereabouts…

“And you would be helping for what reason? The goodness of your heart?”

Claude winked at the suggestion. “You could say that. Or if that reason doesn’t satisfy you just consider it an extension of my curiosity. You show up out of nowhere and start snooping around on the first week of your stay. I’d love to know why.” Seeing that his words hadn’t convinced her so far, Claude tried another tactic. “Look, I’m out after curfew too, and it wasn’t for the purpose of following you around. Initially at least. If I tell you what juicy rumor I was chasing down, will you let me help you with your goal tonight? A little tit for tat?” He cocked his head to the side and smiled mischievously at her.

The temptation of his offer won out and Byleth nodded her head in agreement. “Very well, I suppose a temporary alliance could serve us both tonight. First tell me your rumor.”

Pleased with his victory, Claude peaked out from the stairwell to make sure the hallway still stood empty before lowering his voice further and whispering to Byleth. “Have you heard of the Abyss?”

Byleth’s brow furrowed and she shook her head.

“Supposedly there is an entire town beneath the monastery. It’s full of secrets and runaways and who knows what else. If the rumor proves true, there has to be an entrance around here somewhere. I was searching the alleyways of the gardens when I saw you sneaking by.”

“How sure are you that this rumor is true?”

Claude shrugged. “Sure enough to go out looking for it. Who knows, maybe if this alliance works out, you’ll be the one to help me find it.” Byleth ignored his cheeky grin.

“Let’s take this one step at a time. For now, I’d like to see how useful your help can be. I want to look through some books.”

Looking confused for but a moment, Claude’s expression shifted into a knowing one. “I take it the library’s selection is a bit boring for your tastes?”

“You could say that,” Byleth agreed. “Now, can you help me find something more interesting to read, or not?”

“You’ve come to the right place, Stranger. Let’s go.” Claude grabbed her hand, locking his fingers in between hers. Before Byleth could protest they were moved up the stairs to the second floor.

Flattening himself to the wall of the upper stair well, Claude peaked around the corner carefully. The stairs led to the area outside of Rhea’s audience chamber. Byleth jerked her hand out of his grasp and busied her hands with straightening her cloak. When Claude looked back at her to tell her the coast was clear he was still smirking.

“There is always a guard or two up here patrolling at night, but they’re easy enough to avoid. Follow my lead.”

Byleth had no choice but to do just that. The pair hurried quickly through the open room and halted again before the hallway that led to the faculty offices. Byleth had been up here briefly before when visiting her father in his own office. At the end of the hall a guard could be seen walking away from them and turning the corner to the left. Byleth hadn’t been down that way before, so wasn’t sure how long it would take the man to return, but Claude moved forward confidently, so she followed his lead.

They ducked into the first doorway on the right, one Byleth knew as Seteth’s office. Digging around in his pockets Claude took out a lock picking set and quickly got to work on the door. He scrapped around the lock as Byleth listened intently for any noises of a guard coming back down the hallway. She could hear the faintest echo of footsteps after a few moments and tapped on Claude’s shoulder quickly. Her message was clear, _hurry up_.

Not letting the pressure rattle him Claude continued working before finally a soft click could be heard from the lock. Without wasting any more time Claude eased the door open a crack and slipped in with Byleth close behind him. They gently swung the door shut and both stood listening, ears pressed to the wood as the footsteps continued to grow closer, then in a moment of shared relief the guard passed the office. They had made it in unnoticed.

Turning from the door Byleth grinned at her accomplice, forgetting for a moment it was Claude accompanying her rather than Benson. Cursing herself internally for allowing her mind to get lost in the adrenaline she dropped the grin quickly, hoping Claude hadn’t seen it. Judging by the wink he gave her he had.

“I’ve seen Seteth carrying books away from the library, and I don’t think they were for his own personal reading.” Claude whispered. “I’d be willing to bet he took them to his office to keep out of reach of us troublemakers.”

Byleth nodded her understanding and began searching through the tall bookshelves that surrounded Seteth’s office. For the most part they all seemed rather mundane. The two continued to search until Claude tapped her on the shoulder and waved for her to follow him. He crouched down behind Seteth’s desk and pulled out a box from among the rolled maps and other clutter that was being stored in a bin there. In it were three books. The first seemed ordinary enough, though it was severely damaged. It had probably been removed to be repaired, or thrown away, what with its cover being nothing more than tatters. The second book had an incredibly muscular man on the cover with flowing hair and pants that hung _very_ low on his otherwise naked torse. Byleth blushed and put the book down hurriedly. That one had been removed from the library for obvious, non-cryptic reasons. Holding onto her hope for a clue Byleth picked up the third book. The title was “The Lost Creatures of Legend, and Other Short Stories”. Huffing in frustration Byleth shoved the book back in the box.

“These are useless.”

Claude picked through the books curiously himself, holding the fairytale book in his hands gingerly. “It would seem so. Though this one does seem to be an odd pick to be banishing from the student library…” Claude sunk into his thoughts for a moment before looking back at Byleth. “Don’t loose faith though, I’ve seen him with more books than these three in the past. If they aren’t here in his office that means he is disposing of them elsewhere.”

“What good is that to us if he is just throwing the books away?”

Claude shook his head at her words. “No, not throwing them away, look around his room. Seteth loves books, I’d be willing to bet he is storing them somewhere. Maybe in some sort of shadow library that students don’t have access to.” Byleth considered the idea and found herself agreeing with Claude after surveying the towering bookcases surrounding them again.

 _But where is he keeping them?_ Byleth thought to herself. She paced the room and considered it before turning back to Claude, a gleam in her eye.

“What is it?” He asked, guarded against her sudden interest in him.

“It looks like we now have reason to continue this alliance.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“What better place to store seedy books of the monastery, than under its own belly?”

Claude’s eyes lit up in understanding. “You’ll help me find the Abyss?” Byleth nodded back to him and extended her hand. Standing up and tucking the fairytale book under his arm Claude extended his own to her and they shook on it, sealing the agreement.

Releasing her grip from Claude’s, Byleth turned to the exit. “Now, let’s get out of here. We can meet again this week and go over what you know of the Abyss so far. But in the meantime, I’d rather not get caught in Seteth’s office.”

Joining Byleth at the door the two of them again listened for the guard’s footsteps and made their retreat from the second floor, leaving no sign of their presence beyond one missing book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter and was surprised by how much longer than previous chapters it ended up being. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it as well.
> 
> I would like to continue posting to this story multiple times a week, but at the very least I'll be sure I get something up every weekend. Sometimes work just gets a little too draining, and I KNOW everyone can relate to that! ಥ_ಥ


	9. Changing Tides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family dinner and a meeting with Dimitri...

Finding time to sit down with his children had proven to be harder than Jeralt would have thought when he first took the teaching job in Garreg Mach. Between meetings with the other monastery staff and lesson plans, there was hardly a spare hour to Jeralt’s name. The chaotic schedule put into light how much he really appreciated the quiet evenings on the road between jobs that had been shared with his twins as part of their mercenary lifestyle. The fondness held towards passed memories made their dinner tonight even more appreciated.

Jeralt poured a generous glass of red wine for each of them. A small benefit of life at the monastery was a finer selection of drinks. Not that Jeralt would turn his nose up to a hearty tavern ale, but sometimes the tart crispness of a red just couldn’t be topped. Byleth took her glass and delicately sipped at it, appreciating the offer.

The three were eating in Jeralt’s office tonight, partially to avoid the noise of the dinning hall, but also for the opportunity to talk in private. The month had been a blur of activity that was coming to a close.

“Well, what do you think? Are the brats ready for the mock battle this week?” Jeralt eyed his children patiently, giving them time to carefully consider their answers and give him their honest assessment. Benson was the first to speak.

“I think they have a real chance. The academy seems to view the Golden Deer as underdogs, but I’m not so sure. Based upon the students themselves I suppose I can see where they are coming from… having commoners and ex-merchant kids making up a fair portion of the house could certainly be viewed as a disadvantage. However, with each house professor being able to take the field with their students? It greatly tips the odds in your favor. Manuela and Hanneman are certainly talented professors and masters of their craft, but there just isn’t a substitute for experience commanding fighters on the battlefield.”

Jeralt nodded along with Benson’s assessment before turning to look at Byleth. She finished chewing her food and washed it down with another sip of wine, taking her time before responding.

“The other houses are strong and while I can’t be sure of where their weaknesses lie, I am certain of where they are in our own group.”

Benson caught the ownership of the class in Byleth’s words. As though she were just as much their teacher as Jeralt was. _Interesting._ It was unusual for Byleth to bond with outsiders.

Byleth continued, “I feel the selection of who participates in the battle will be the determining factor. You’re allowed to bring four with you onto the battlefield, correct?”

“Yeah, only four. I’ll have to be carful about who I bring, that’s for sure. What weaknesses are you most concerned about?”

“Raphael’s disregard for strategy, Lorenz’s disdain for following orders, Hilda’s apathy… It seems everyone has something to give concern. Ignatz is terribly inexperienced, even when compared to the other students. And if you send Marianne into battle, will she even fight, or just cower in a corner berating herself for her preemptive ineptitude?”

Jeralt chuckled at the growing list of concerns brought up by Byleth. “Alright, I see your points. They definitely have room for improvement. But that’s part of leadership, working around the shortcomings of those you command.” As though he were spying another teaching opportunity, Jeralt set a challenge on the table. “Who would you bring on a team?” Then he dug into his meal, allowing his children to think about it and present their plans.

Benson avoided the wine, instead opting for water as he pondered his ideal team. After a few moments he spoke. “I think you just have to pick those who perform the best in training. Leonie, Lorenz, Claude, and Lysithea. Plus, your bases will be covered with short range, long range, and a magic user. Keep it simple and let the top students do what they do best.”

Disagreement stirred Byleth from her silence. “Just because someone performs well on the training grounds doesn’t mean they will make the best team. Put Lorenz on that field and I guarantee you he will disobey your orders. He doesn’t respect Jeralt yet, so he won’t listen to him. Replace Lorenz with Raphael and then maybe you’ll have a winning team.”

Choosing this moment to disturb the agreement the twins had landed on, Jeralt asks, “What about Hilda?”

The siblings scoff in sync with each other, with Byleth voicing their objection. “She is talented, sure, but she’s so lazy! I’ve never seen a less motivated person in my life.”

“Heh, you obviously haven’t met Linhardt yet…” Jeralt muttered. “But that’s not the point. The point is that she is strong and has a lot of potential in her. What do you think will happen if I bench her for this fight? I can tell you one thing she _won’t_ do, and that’s be ready for the next one. Hilda is just the type of person where if you give them an inch, they’ll take a mile, she has to be on the battlefield this week.”

Benson considered Jeralt’s assessment and ended up agreeing with him. As always, his father had eyes on the long game, and was planning beyond just this week’s battle. It was a wiser strategy to be sure. “Well, if that’s the route you’re going you might as well take Marianne as well. You won’t be able to rely on her in a high stakes mission in her current state. She needs confidence, and a silly academy practice battle might be the way to build that.”

Jeralt smiled as his son caught on and asked Byleth, “Can she do it?”

Being the most proficient magic user between the three of them, Byleth had spent quite a few hours working with Lysithea and Marianne during their afternoon sparing sessions. She leaned her head against her fist and thought it through.

Lysithea was the stronger and more confident magic user by far, but Marianne had a focused and methodical way she went about her craft. She certainly had the potential to perform well but that didn’t guarantee anything. Byleth pictured the two youths in her mind and found the analytical measuring of the women wasn’t getting her an answer. She sighed and allowed her gut to speak for her.

“She can to it. She will protect her friends.” Byleth couldn’t tell you where the confidence in her assertion can from, but only that she knew it to be true. “Marianne needs to know we believe in her, and I think she’ll only continue to grow from that point on.”

A small flutter of pride moved in Jeralt’s chest. He enjoyed seeing his children, who were normally so cold and calculating, attempt to understand the Golden Deer students. While he still wished he could have avoided falling into Rhea’s plans, it almost made it worth it to see the twins begin to bond with others, even if it were in the limited way they had.

“Perfect. Hilda and Marianne are on the team then. We’ll drop Leonie and Lysithea. Neither of them has anything to prove. Now that I think about it… choosing them to not fight might actually motivate them to train harder for the next mission. I’m sure they will think they hadn’t been chosen for a reason…” Jeralt trailed off and grinned to himself in a self-satisfied way. Benson wondered if their father had been this manipulative when training them, and only needed a second to conclude that it was very likely.

With the mock battle participants figured out, a comfortable silence settled onto the dinner table. As if she were waiting for a moment to speak, Sothis announced her presence in Byleth’s head. **Are you going to tell the old man what you have been up to?**

It was unnerving enough to share mental space with a mystical being without also having the suspense of never knowing when she would make herself heard. With each passing day Sothis seemed to spend more time awake, and she would switch fairly evenly between Byleth and Benson. The twins had taken to signaling each other when they heard her voice, if at the very least to ease the other’s tension at not knowing if she would randomly decide to announce her presence.

It was decided that for now, even Jeralt would be excluded from the secret of Sothis. At least until they knew more about her. While Jeralt was distracted with his food Byleth reached up and tugged on her ear, as if she had an itch to scratch. Benson caught the move and made brief eye contact to acknowledge the signal.

Returning her thoughts to Sothis, Byleth controlled her expression to stay neutral to not betray the internal conversation she was having.

_Not yet. We haven’t found anything of importance, there’s no need to waste Jeralt’s time with rumors and dead ends._

**Hmph, I can tell you are close by the fondness of your thoughts, so your distance surprises me.**

_It’s not about distance, it’s about efficiency._

**You do not think he would be interested in what you have been up to?**

Byleth paused for a moment. The thought hadn’t occurred to her. Small talk wasn’t something she participated in, and silent dinners were very much a normal part of their lives, even before Garreg Mach, but who started the practice? Had they learned their quiet habits from Jeralt, or had he accepted their withdrawn personalities over the years?

Like a nudge within her chest Sothis whispered, **Try it, you might be surprised.**

“I’ve been looking around the monastery.” Two shocked faces looked up at Byleth’s words. She paused for a moment, strangely intimidated by the attention from her father and brother. “Um… you know. Looking for information and stuff.”

Benson kept the quizzical look he wore, but Jeralt’s eyes seemed to light up just a bit brighter. “Oh? Did you find anything?”

**I told you so.**

_Hush, no one likes a bragger._

“I heard an interesting rumor. Do you know anything about the Abyss?”

Benson had already been filled in about the late-night adventure from Byleth, so he turned his head to study Jeralt when the man answered.

“Ah, the Abyss. I heard some whispering about that place every now and then back when I was a captain here.” The twins perked up in interest. They wouldn’t have expected the outlandish rumor to be confirmed so quickly. The fact that Jeralt had heard about it immediately gave the rumor that much more credence, though their hope was immediately shattered by his next words. “I wouldn’t put much stock in its existence though. A place as big as the monastery being kept secret underground? Seems too big of a task to be accomplished. They would have to be incredibly organized and likely working with the church.”

Disappointment weighed on Byleth’s shoulders. She suddenly found herself looking forward much less to her meeting with Claude to go over their plans to find the Abyss. With Jeralt’s disbelief in hand the already slim prospects of finding it looked practically non-existent.

Shaking her disappointment away Byleth attempted to continue the conversation with her father. As Sothis had predicted he seemed to enjoy the more talkative side of her and eagerly chatted on about recent happenings. They even managed to drag Benson into the conversation when they started reminiscing about past jobs as mercenaries. Their dinner and wine carried on late into the night as they settled into the moment of comradery they had found in the midst of the monastery. Together the three of them forgot for just a moment about the looming threats of the unknown.

***

To say Dimitri was nervous as he strode towards Byleth’s room in the early light of the morning would have been an understatement. Since their meeting in Remire and the trip back to the monastery that followed he had hardly had the chance to speak with Byleth at all. She had found him in the dining hall briefly one day after his discussion with Benson to confirm their plans to train the orphans together, but beyond that… she was rather elusive to say the least.

It hardly made sense for Dimitri to seek her out in this way, and while he knew logically that the mysterious mercenary was better left alone, he couldn’t help but feel drawn to her. On nights he couldn’t sleep he often stared up at his ceiling considering what it was that made her keep popping up in his thoughts. Most nights he was able to shut the thoughts down as a silly superficial crush. The woman was beautiful and strong to be sure, but he hardly knew her enough to chalk his feelings up to a real connection. Then there were the other nights… the ones where he thought to himself that _maybe_ there was more to it than that. There was only one way to find out, and with that conviction in mind he found himself in front of Byleth’s door and raised his fist to knock.

Only a few moments passed before Byleth answered the door. Dimitri’s eyes quickly took her in before being forced to settle on her face again. She wore a lightweight pair of leggings that were covered in subtle floral design. On top of that she had on a dark grey tunic with a lightly armored corset-like piece over it. Her heavy cloak was abandoned on the warm spring day, leaving her arms bare.

Dimitri gave her a short bow in greeting. “Good morning Byleth. I am honored to be joined by you today. Thank you for setting some time aside to assist me with the monastery children.”

Rather than a verbal reply, Byleth only nodded, closing the door of her room behind her.

Stumbling slightly on the silence Dimitri tried again. “May I escort you to the training grounds?” He offered his arm to Byleth in a similar fashion to when she had first arrived at the monastery. Her brow furrowed slightly as she took his arm before finally speaking.

“You don’t have to act so formally towards me.”

“What do you mean?” While Dimitri was pleased she was speaking to him, he found himself concerned about where she was going with the statement.

“I’m sure you spent most of your life surrounded by nobles and high-ranking citizens, but I’m not one of those people. All this propriety is… well… wasted on me.” She pointedly looked towards their linked arms.

They walked a few more steps while Dimitri considered his response. “Allow me to ask you something, concerning all this… _propriety_. If I were to greet you in the casual way a friend might… what would be your response?”

Byleth gave him a puzzled look. “I suppose I would greet you in the same manner.”

Dimitri felt warmth begin to bloom in his chest, “I think I would like that. I find myself surrounded by so much of this pomp that it’s hard to do anything but reciprocate it. Even my childhood friends tend to call me ‘your highness’. Not that I can blame them, we have certainly grown apart over the years. The only one who doesn’t defer to me with such formality hates me and calls me a— well, let’s not get into that.

“I think if I were to know it would be returned in kind, I’d rather enjoy having more… informal interactions with you.” Dimitri waited with bated breath for Byleth’s response, peaking at her from the corner of his eye as they strolled towards the training grounds.

“I’m not sure I’d know how to act formally towards you if I tried.”

A genuine smile broke across Dimitri’s face. He brought his free hand to rest atop the one Byleth had on his arm. Her hold on him was delicate and warm, and he squeezed her hand in appreciation. “Thank you,” he spoke simply. Dimitri hadn’t realized how much the distance he felt forced to keep between himself and his class was weighing on him. It’s not that he wanted the elevated rank he held in the kingdom to be his defining characteristic, but when everyone else couldn’t see past his future position as king, it made it difficult to not behave as such in turn. Knowing he wouldn’t have to carry that burden around Byleth was a welcome relief.

When they arrived at the training grounds, they found it empty. Dimitri read the question in Byleth’s eyes before she had to voice it. “I like to arrive before the children, to prepare.”

“I see,” Byleth said, falling into step with Dimitri in preparing the training grounds for the children’s arrival. They sorted through weapons and training dummies to find appropriately sized ones. As they worked Dimitri found himself pleasantly surprised to hear Byleth talking again.

“How did you wind up with this side teaching gig anyway?”

“Ah, well, some of the orphans saw me sparring with the knights one day. They started pestering me to teach them. They were so earnest... I couldn't help but oblige. I spoke with Rhea to volunteer in the training program the monastery runs for the children. There's much I wish to show them, but due to my own studies and training, I'm afraid my time is rather limited. Which is yet another reason I find myself grateful for your help today.”

Byleth stood with wooden training weapons in hand and was only barely able to manage a shrug with her arms full. “I doubt I’ll be able to teach them much, I don’t have any skills with instructing.”

Hurrying to help ease some of the weapons from her overflowing arms Dimitri replied, “That’s not what I hear.” His fingers brush against her bare arms briefly and he forces himself to ignore the butterflies that come alive in his stomach. “From what I hear from Marianne you do an excellent job assisting Jeralt in the Golden Deer lessons. She speaks very highly about the way you’ve helped her improve in her magic wielding.”

“Marianne, really? And here I thought she hated the lessons. She always looks like she would like to run away when I speak with her.”

Dimitri chuckled ruefully, “Yes, she tends to look like that with everyone. I’m sure it doesn’t have to do with you specifically.” Like many of his statements, Byleth seemed to accept them with an overtone of indifference, though he hoped his eyes weren’t deceiving him when he thought he saw some relief under it all.

It was then that the children started to file into the training hall. Dimitri took the lead in instructing them, but quickly found one excuse after the other to come back to Byleth, asking her for assistance with this and that. All trivial things he had to admit, but Dimitri couldn’t resist stealing extra moments to speak with her. The children were pretty worn out with the training after the second hour, and he called it there. The monastery orphans waved goodbye to Dimitri with sweaty, smiling faces and pranced out after storing their weapons properly. One of the younger girls in the group ran up to Byleth and gave her a tight hug, her head barely reaching Byleth’s stomach. Dimitri was amused by the startled expression on Byleth’s face, and the awkward way she patted the little girl’s head. It seemed Benson might have been exaggerating when he had said how much Byleth liked children.

 _If helping the kids hadn’t been what drew her here… did that mean she came out to help because of me?_ The butterflies returned to Dimitri, and he tried to school his thoughts. He was yet again being overly eager and rushing into the situation. He was prone to over analyze things, from battlefield skirmishes to events in his personal life. Nevertheless, he found himself drawn over to Byleth again, as the last child left the training grounds. He felt compelled to open up to her, perhaps partially in the hope that she would in turn be more open with him.

“Thank you, truly. I am in your debt. And I always repay my debts, I'll have you know.” Byleth’s big doe eyes turned on him, and Dimitri felt as though her were on a precipice with his words and what he was about to tell her. “All of these children lost their families and homes to war or illness. This may sound a bit arrogant, but...I feel it's my responsibility to help them. I lost my parents without warning too. In that way, we're the same. In Duscur, I lost my father, stepmother, and closest friends. I didn't have many allies at the castle after that. In truth, I had only Dedue for companionship.”

Rather than flicking away, Byleth’s ocean eyes held steady, as if they were peering into his depths. “Is there no one else you can trust?”

“I'm afraid not. My birth mother fell ill and died shortly after I was born. And my uncle... suffice to say we don't get along. I once had people I could confide in. Family, friends, instructors, even the royal soldiers. But they were all taken away from me four years ago. Ah, but there were those outside the castle walls I was close to. Such as Rodrigue!”

“Rodrigue?”

“Heh, pardon my rudeness. I meant Lord Rodrigue. He is my father's old companion, and the father of Felix. On the occasions he would visit the capital, he'd take me out hunting or on long horse rides. While Dedue is like a brother to me, Rodrigue is more like a second father. It might sound ridiculous, but...he's the kind of man I hope to become one day. Someone who helps others... Someone who can reach out and save a lost soul.” Dimitri was swept away in his own thoughts as he described Rodrigue. He was flooded with gratitude to have such an outstanding man in his life, but the joy was tainted with sorrow when the train of thought led inevitably to Felix, and the sour relationship they now shared. As though he were just remembering Byleth’s presence in front of him, Dimitri spoke, “Oh... Please accept my apologies for boring you with my life story…”

Embarrassment reared its head as Dimitri waited for Byleth’s reply, suddenly self-conscious about the amount he had just shared with the silent woman in front of him. He internally breathed a sigh of relief when Byleth tentatively took his hands in hers and squeezed them lightly in reassurance.

“We all need someone to confide in. I’m glad you have Rodrigue and Dedue to lean on. But… if you find Rodrigue to be too far away and need someone to speak with who isn’t also your retainer… well, I hope you might come to me.”

Dimitri’s heart fluttered and a blush crept across his cheeks. He wouldn’t have hoped to receive such a response from the elusive woman, but now that he had, he found himself overjoyed. Her hands slipped from his and they finished saying their goodbyes, and all Dimitri could think was that he had been wrong. This wasn’t just a silly crush, there was something here, some reason the goddess had put Byleth in his path. He stubbornly brushed away words like ‘love’ and ‘destiny’ as they popped into his head, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t eagerly looked forward to spending his days finding out how far this rabbit hole went.

***

A knot was tightening in Byleth’s stomach as she left Dimitri to refresh herself in the bath house of Garreg Mach. She recognized the feeling for what it was… guilt. She was relieved Sothis appeared to be with Benson today, it left her time to unwind her muscles as well as her thoughts of what had just happened.

Sinking into the hot water Byleth let out her breath slowly. The hot baths were by far her favorite thing about the monastery. They almost made staying here worth it. At least they did when she was able to shake the sense of danger that loomed over her within the stone walls.

It wasn’t long before her thoughts returned to Dimitri. She hadn’t been lying when she told him he could confide in her, she found herself surprised by how much she actually meant those words. From the beginning Byleth could feel the darkness he carried within him. When Dimitri had shared his past with her it gave insight into the pain that he must be carrying with him every day. Byleth hadn’t allowed herself to feel deeply for anyone beyond her brother and father before.

_Never allowed it? That’s not it… I’ve never… felt these things before._

The truth stared Byleth down, unavoidable in its raw form. She loved her family deeply, but how much of that bond was familiarity? Survival? Just a response to the consistency of their presence in her life?

Hesitantly she lifted her right hand out of the water she soaked in and placed it over her chest. There was nothing there, no heartbeat to match her racing pulse. She knew there wouldn’t be, there never had been, even as a child. As long as she could remember, Benson and she had been unique in this way.

One night in a tavern stood out to her specifically. A random man had been vying for her affection, and when he finally accepted her cold rejection, he had called her heartless. Out of everything the man could have said, this one stuck with her. She eventually accepted it as a truth about herself. Byleth was heartless, physically… emotionally…

But now her world was shifting. She had felt sympathy when hearing Dimitri’s words, and now toxic guilt clung to her. Even though she had meant the words she spoke to the blonde prince, she knew that the real reason she spoke them was to take advantage of him. Jeralt and Benson came first, and she had a mission. Dimitri’s instinct to open up to her might just provide them with the information they needed to protect themselves. The closer Dimitri thought they were, the more he would share. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

Byleth hated Garreg Mach for imprisoning them here, forcing her to manipulate a situation she would much rather just flee from. Less people would get hurt that way.

She slid down into the bathwater, holding her breath and surrounding herself with the peaceful quiet echo that pressed against her.

One… Two…

_It doesn’t matter what I said to Dimitri. It’s not like it will hurt him to have someone else to talk to._

Nine… Ten…

_I’m not even manipulating him. He knows I’m a mercenary, he should know what to expect. What NOT to expect._

Eighteen… Nineteen…

_It’s his fault for trusting so blindly. He doesn’t even know me. At this rate he is bound to be disappointed sooner or later. If not by me then by someone else._

Twenty-seven… Twenty-eight…

Byleth’s lungs started to burn. Discomfort built in her to match the guilt she carried.

Thirty-five… Thirty-six…

_Dimitri deserves a friend._

Forty… Forty-one…

_I don’t know if I’ll succeed… but I have to try._

Her head broke the surface of the water and Byleth gasped air back into her lungs. Her breathing slowed and she internalized the realization. As foreign a concept as it seemed, she would at least try to not betray Dimitri’s trust. If he needed a friend here within the monastery walls, she would do what she could, filling a role she had no experience in. At least for as long as she found herself here… Dimitri would eventually be king after all. Even under the best of circumstances their budding relationship had an expiration date. When Byleth could leave safely with Benson and Jeralt she would, without hesitation… but in the meantime… maybe she could help ease some of the darkness in Dimitri while she was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Byleth is finally opening up to having feelings!!! ╰(*°▽°*)╯
> 
> I know there isn't much Benson in this chapter... and possibly not much in the next with the mock battle coming up... but he'll get more time on the page after the battle! Afterall, Edelgard has plans for him 😈


	10. Mock Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A breakfast meeting with Claude and the mock battle...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all,
> 
> So sorry for the delay on this chapter. I got hit by the winter storm and was a victim of Texas's laughable power grid. Power went out on Sunday right before I was going to post this chapter. It works out though because I probably caught a few more editing mistakes than I normally do lol.
> 
> Anyway, I figure I'll post this now before my power goes out again. I've already started the next chapter, but I'm unsure when it'll be up. Hopefully on Sunday, but no promises this time!
> 
> I hope everyone has managed to stay warm and safe this week <3

It was the morning of the mock battle, and despite being confined to spectating, the thrum of excitement in the monastery had seeped into Byleth as well. Battalions weren’t allowed in the practice battle, so she and Benson would be in the stands, though this did mean they would be able to watch their father fight from a vantage they didn’t ever get while on jobs. Byleth tried to content herself with this as she made her way to the dining hall for breakfast. As she scooped eggs, sausage links, and bacon onto her plate a now familiar voice chirped up in her head.

**Ever thought about trying a piece of fruit for a change?**

Byleth couldn’t help but roll her eyes, though she gave no other outward sign of their conversation.

_Not enough protein. I’m surprised you picked me today, I would have thought you’d want to go with Benson on his trip to the merchant square._

Benson was taking some iron weapons to the blacksmith to be repaired. Jeralt didn’t want to run the chance of anyone’s weapons breaking mid-battle today. Byleth would have gone with, if not for her prior commitment.

**We can go to the market some another time. I missed your rendezvous with Dimitri the other day, I am not going to miss this one!**

Heading towards a distant, rarely used table Byleth tried to ignore Sothis. She didn’t particularly like that the girl kept referring to Byleth’s afternoon with Dimitri as a _rendezvous_. It made the whole thing sound more intimate than it was. When Sothis had returned to Byleth’s mind after the event she had been intrigued by the new thoughts and emotions the meeting had stirred up. Now, to make matters worse, it seemed Sothis was equally as interested in Byleth’s plans with Claude today.

Sensing Byleth’s exasperation with her, Sothis spoke up. **You should not be so dismissive of these things. I am the one trapped, while you have all the freedom in the world to do as you please. Yet you waste it! Pardon me to being excited about the rare, interesting things you do.**

The accusation brought Byleth up short. _I do plenty of interesting things._

**Training is not interesting. And before you say it, neither is roaming around this place mapping it out. The people living here though… that sounds much more interesting. You should spend more time with them.**

Before Byleth could respond, another plate landed on the table in front of her, pulling her out of the conversation.

“How’s it going, Stranger?” The playful smile that accompanied the man before her was as bright as the spring day outside.

“How long are you going to keep calling me Stranger?”

Claude shrugged and sat himself down in the seat across from Byleth. “Probably until you let me call you Friend.”

The straightforward answer took Byleth aback. She didn’t make friends; she didn’t need them.

“You could just call me Byleth like everyone else.”

Claude leaned into the table and his emerald eyes met hers in a conspiratorial fashion. “And why would I want to call you what the rest of the world calls you?”

A shiver ran up Byleth’s spine. That was not the response she had been expecting. She did her best to move past it, but she knew at the very least Sothis had noticed her pause.

“Call me what you wish, we have more important things to talk about.”

Taking the invitation with more liberty than he knew Byleth had meant, Claude smiled and gestured for her to continue. “By all means, let’s get on with the important conversation… Friend.”

Byleth ignored the new moniker… and Sothis’s giggle.

“I spoke with Jeralt about the rumors of the Abyss. He’s heard of it but doesn’t think it exists. He said an entire underground city is too big of a secret to keep without the church being in on it.”

A student passed nearby their table and they both fell silent until the unwelcome ears were out of range. Claude kept his voice at a low whisper when he next spoke.

“What if they _are_ in on it?”

“What?!” Byleth asked, her exclamation barely remaining a whisper.

“Don’t look at me like I’m crazy, I’ve been thinking about it. A church as big as this has stood the test of time. They have an army of knights at their disposal, monks and nuns whose influence reaches across the continent, followers in all of the nations… they are practically a country themselves, albeit a small one if you’re only looking at their land size. But when you consider the church’s influence? It rivals the empire, the kingdom, and the alliance combined.” Claude paused a moment to let this information sink in. His eyes held Byleth’s intently as he continued. “And what is a country without its secrets? Without its spies? Without its black markets and shady underbelly?”

“You think the Abyss and the Church are working together?”

Claude grinned devilishly. “I think they are more than working together, I think the church planted the Abyss, and cultivated it as yet another tool to serve Rhea.”

The mention of Rhea’s name snapped the entire proposition into focus. Byleth wasn’t familiar with the church as a whole, but from the way Jeralt had been sucked into service withing this stone prison, she wouldn’t put it past the ruling Lady Rhea to be keeping some secrets up her sleeves. Though dealing with a shady liaison personally didn’t seem Rhea’s style. Byleth thought about the fact that Jeralt believed the Abyss to be nothing more than a rumor and knew that whoever would be the middleman between Rhea and this mysterious underground society would have to be high ranking.

Voicing her thoughts to Claude, the two of them arrived at the same conclusion. Seteth.

He was Rhea’s right-hand man, and if he were truly disposing of library books into a shadow library, then he would have to be the one who knew how to get there, or meet with someone who did.

“We can keep a watch on him,” Byleth now excitedly whispered across the table to Claude, “see where he goes, who he talks to… surely he’ll have to meet with someone eventually, and we can follow them back to the entrance of the Abyss.”

Claude’s excitement matched her own. “They would probably meet at night; we can work in shifts outside of Seteth’s quarters. If there’s anything to the rumor we’re bound to catch it!”

The pair grinned at each other over their breakfast, which lay forgotten on their plates. While Byleth’s smile was certainly smaller and more reserved than Claude’s, it was still there, a fact that she didn’t even notice while they conspired together.

“When do we start?” Byleth asked.

“Tonight?” By this point the two were hunched across the table, lost in their planning, and close enough that Byleth could smell the pine tea that accompanied Claude’s breakfast on his breath, and for a moment found herself distracted by it. It was a warm and comforting scent that reminded her of days on the road when the only resources the crew had available to them were what they could scrounge up in the woods.

“Tonight.” Byleth replied with finality in her voice, before quickly returning to the food that she had barely touched.

Hesitating for just a moment, as though reluctant to break the comradery that had formed between them, Claude leaned back and returned to his meal as well. Though their scheming had melted into a benign looking breakfast between casual aquaintences, Claude’s eyes kept darting up to Byleth as if she were a fascinating creature he was trying to study without scaring away.

Sothis noticed the looks, and Byleth’s increased pulse and couldn’t help herself but to comment. **Just as I thought… this is MUCH more interesting than a trip to the market.**

***

Benson took his seat on the sidelines with the rest of the faculty, ready to watch the houses face off. Byleth approached a few minutes later and settled down beside him.

He looked at her, holding his question in his eyes for her to read.

Not missing a beat Byleth spoke, “We’re going to start watching Seteth’s quarters. Claude and I decided that if the rumors are true, he is the most likely person to be a contact point. If the Abyss exists at all, they have to be working with the church.”

Benson absorbed the information and nodded. It made sense, though there was something scratching at the back of his mind about the whole thing. He didn’t like how close Byleth was having to get to these students. He knew that it was unavoidable, just as Benson’s increased interactions with the rest of the monastery was. They needed information if they were going to work their way out of this mess… but still. They sat in silence for another few minutes until Benson was finally able to put words to his concern.

“You’re becoming attached.”

“Excuse me?”

“The students. You’re becoming attached to the students.”

Rather than answering, Byleth just waived her brother’s accusation away with a dismissive gesture.

Benson didn’t give in that easily though. “I can tell by the way you talk about them. It’s as if they are your students, in addition to being Jeralt’s.”

“Isn’t that the point of all this? To get close to them so we can get out of here?”

His steady gaze didn’t break from Byleth, even though she had firmly averted her eyes by now. “Get close to them, yes. But not lost in them. We can’t forget what our goals are, or who our family is.”

This pulled a response out of Byleth. She turned sharply back to her brother and glared at him indignantly. “You think I would forget who is family? Who I am loyal to?” For the first time in her life Byleth felt a hairline fissure run between herself and Benson.

As though he were finally hearing his own words, Benson eyes softened, and he had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Byleth… I’m sorry. You’re right and I shouldn’t have said that.”

The fight in Byleth’s posture immediately dissipated. It was a foreign feeling to begin with, feeling irritation towards her twin. She was glad to let it go, like a toxic substance to be expelled from her body.

Benson reached out his hand to Byleth, as a final, wordless apology, and she took it quickly, eager to move past the tense moment. Their warrior’s handshake was a reminder of all their past battles, every trial that they had faced together. Hands clasping each other’s forearms, and eyes meeting in a resolute gaze, they reaffirmed their lifelong promise to each other. One that had never been spoken aloud, but that had traveled with them since they left the cradle. They entered this life together, grew up in it together, fought together, and would eventually die together, and nothing would stand in their way.

A horn blast broke across the field, interrupting them, and drawing Benson’s attention back to the impending battle below. He saw Claude and Jeralt exchanging some final words as Rhea gave a lofty speech about the meaning of the mock battle and all the history it represented. He managed to tune it out and instead studied the positioning of the classes on the battlefield.

The Golden Deer seemed to be starting at a distinct disadvantage. They had no healing tile to gather around and would undoubtedly be forced to rush the enemy positions to take them out. When Rhea’s speech finally ended and another horn sounded, he found his assessment to be correct.

Jeralt led the small team of four to a patch of woods and thickets to their left, clearly hoping to find some cover in their otherwise vulnerable position.

Ferdinand rushed forward, eager to root them out of their cover, shouting in an entirely too self-important way, “I will fight on the front lines! I can stop the enemy’s advance with grace!”

Hubert followed Ferdinand out of their well protected position, seemingly against his will. Benson could imagine the same thing happening with Lorenz if he had been on the field today. The eagerness to prove himself and an abundance of self-confidence was one thing he and Ferdinand shared in spades. Benson found himself appreciative of the instinct Byleth had had the other night in suggesting Lorenz not join the battle just yet.

Dimitri’s voice rang across the field then, “Ashe, can you move to the front lines? I want to lure the enemy this way.”

“Got it, your highness! Leave it to me!”

Benson shook his head at the obvious ploy. What point was there in ‘luring’ an enemy to a trap if you were going to scream your plan across the entire battlefield.

Once the forces collided Benson finally got the chance to appreciate Jeralt’s skill and experience from this new perspective. The way Jeralt hugged the line of cover, and spread the Golden Deer out to, in turn, pull the attacking forces apart as well. It left them vulnerable to be so isolated from each other. Once the enemy was sufficiently separated, the Golden Deer fell back swiftly, into the tree cover. The over eagerness of the other young students caused them to follow haphazardly, unaware of the grave blunder they were committing. With the assistance of superior cover Jeralt commanded the Golden Deer to fall on the other classes like wolves. One by one they took their enemies out, teaming up on a single target to lessen their threats with an easy efficiency that Jeralt had fostered in his students. It was a performance that mirrored how the crew operated. As much as he tried not to, Benson found himself drawn in, enjoying the contest below him.

As her classmates fell, Edelgard shouted from her well-guarded position behind a barricade. “Hm, you are performing as expected Professor. We will have to face you will our full might!”

With the first wave of attackers taken down, Jeralt led his band of students around the barricades that sheltered the rest of the Black Eagles. It was an obvious ambush point and Jeralt had far too much experience to fall for that kind of tactic. As they traveled Marianne followed behind them, casting healing spells where she could and keeping back from the front lines. She was blossoming under the pressure, seemingly unaffected by the chaos around her and focusing in on her comrades instead.

While the Golden Deer were closing in from the west on the Black Eagles, Dimitri led his class in from the east. Edelgard’s decision to wait in ambush had backfired.

“It seems we’re surrounded… At a time like this, our only option is to cut a path through!” Edelgard’s battle cry rallied her remaining classmate and Manuela. Benson took in this moment and found it to be much more honest than any prior conversation he had with Edelgard. Her words were a game, the way she maneuvered through life, dancing around others, obscuring her goals. The way she commanded on the battlefield was another story entirely. She was fierce and direct. When one plan failed, she was not cowed into submission. She faced the intimidating odds of being trapped between two houses and pushed through like it were her destiny.

Unfortunately for her, this was not some long foretold battle of fate, but rather a mock battle with no real stakes to it, and an experienced mercenary pressing in on her, maneuvering to crash her forces into the waiting maws of the Blue Lions.

Hilda and Raphael were pushing forward with Jeralt smoothly, acting as his left and right arms. Their quick responses to his orders were impressive given they had only had a month to work with him. When the last Black Eagle finally fell, Dimitri’s gaze met Jeralt’s. They had a moment to survey each other as the injured students were carted off the battlefield or limped off on their own.

His booming authoritative voice was directed at Jeralt, “Beautiful work, Professor. But the true challenge starts now!”

Even though the Blue Lions had already lost Ashe in the initial encounter, Benson saw the matchup had remained fairly even. Marianne’s endurance was clearly waning, and Claude looked dangerously low on arrows. Just as Benson started to consider the possibility of a loss for the Golden Deer, Jeralt flipped his odds yet again. He gave a whistled signal to Claude who immediately hooked his bow back over his shoulder and pulled forth the axe that had been strapped to his back. Together, Claude and Hilda pressed forward, a pair of hyenas stalking and tearing down prey. Their teamwork was seamless and for a moment Benson wondered if that’s what he and Byleth looked like when they were in battle. They weren’t called the Ashen Demon and the Shadow for nothing.

Jeralt’s progress towards Hanneman was halted by the formidable presence of Dedue. The man’s armor and stocky stance were almost a fortress in and of themselves. Picking away at his defenses was slow going and allowed Hanneman too much time to prepare and cast spells in the distance. Then, to the surprise of the entire crowd, and seemingly to herself as well, Marianne stepped forward and broke the stalemate. While healing spells were her strength, a respectably powerful Blizzard spell erupted from her hands and surrounded Dedue. His movements slowed as his armor froze. Not only had the spell cut through the armor to injure him, but the aftereffects left a clear opening for Jeralt to finish him off. A heavy hit of Jeralt’s spear to the back of the man’s knees brought the great hulking body down to the ground, and the rest of the Golden Deer were quickly sprinting around him, closing in on Hanneman.

The professor’s fall was inevitable, and with grace he left the battlefield, muttering to himself along the way. “My goodness. The leadership of someone with actual battle experience is... Well! I was as good as useless.”

Benson was glad to see the other faculty acknowledging Jeralt’s experience. He knew his father didn’t view himself as the best professor by any means, but he hoped this victory would solidify that he was serving these students well, and Jeralt deserved the recognition.

Manuela stood on the sidelines and haughtily met Hanneman with some teasingly sharp words, “Hey! You didn't compliment me like that when my class won last year!”

The sheepish grin from Hanneman spoke of a man who hadn’t heard the last of it as the two continued their bickering.

Rhea stepped forward from the faculty crowd and projected her voice so all could hear, “The winner of this mock battle is... The Golden Deer House!”

Below them Claude was pumping his fist and excitedly clapping his teammates on the back. “Great work, everyone! Even if it's just a mock battle, the taste of victory is sugary sweet!”

The laughter and celebration followed the victors all the way back to the monastery. Benson and Byleth trailed behind their father and were eventually pulled into the celebrations. The student’s insisted that their success was in part thanks to the assistance the twins had given during training, though both refuted this repeatedly.

As they walked Claude managed to work his way through the crowd to Byleth’s side and continued traveling next to her as though it were a natural place for him to be.

He didn’t start any sort of conversation, and Byleth normally wouldn’t either, as silence was a much more comfortable condition for her. Sothis, on the other hand, didn’t seem to enjoy it quite so much. The little girl’s insistence that she say something quickly became impossible to ignore, so Byleth spoke, if only to shut Sothis up.

“Good work, Claude. That was a brilliant win.”

His emerald eyes twinkled at her compliment, and it was clear he’d been hoping for her to break the silence. In fact, Byleth was a little surprised he had managed to refrain from breaking it himself. “I've been anticipating that magic moment when Jeralt’s tactics and my schemes entwined and I can’t say I’m disappointed. Though I do find myself wondering what it would be like to approach a battle with you by my side. That composed expression you always sport like a permanent mask is a perfect complement to my ruthless scheming.” He paused letting his serious word hang between them before another bright smile lights up his face. “That's a joke, of course…. Mostly.” Byleth wonders if the quietly uttered ‘mostly’ was meant for her ears only. His eyes linger on hers and seem to be staring directly into her soul.

Sensing his sister’s tension beside him, Benson broke into the conversation. “Everyone did well.” He stated simply. Not that it needed saying, but it would pull the attention off Byleth.

Claude took the bait, turning to Benson now. “Huh. Playing ignorant as to the quality of Jeralt’s command and deflecting the praise to his students. You really are the Professor’s child.”

Lorenz overhear the discussion and chose that moment to interject himself into it. “I must admit that Jeralt’s tactics were masterful. I shudder to think what may have transpired had it been Claude leading us into battle.”

The booming voice of Raphael couldn’t be missed from behind them, “I noticed that too! We just did what Jeralt told us, and we won! I love it!”

“As expected from a former captain of the knights.” Lysithea chirped.

The students continued with their praise, when Byleth noticed one student who wasn’t joining in. Her eyes found the dark grey of Marianne’s and dropped out of the group to speak softly with her.

“You played a big part in the win today.”

Marianne looked surprised to be spoken to, and even more surprised to be receiving a compliment.

“Huh? Me? Oh, um, I don’t think so.”

“You did. It would have taken Jeralt much longer to get past Dedue if you hadn’t stepped in with that Blizzard.”

Marianne’s downcast gaze flicked up to Byleth before dropping again. “You… you think so?”

“I know so.” The smallest smile settled onto Marianne’s face, and Byleth knew her words had found their mark. “We can spend more time on your reason skills next month. It’s good to be well rounded when working on a team like this. Your healing is excellent, and if we work just a bit more on your reason… well maybe next time Jeralt won’t even need to give the final blow to the enemy once they’ve tasted your Blizzard.”

Marianne nodded quietly in a way that might have been discouraging if it weren’t for the smile still on her lips. It was a private one, and Byleth left her with it to rejoin her brother.

Their shoulders brushed occasionally as the twins walked in companionable silence. They allowed the excited chattering to surround them as plans formed for a feast in the dining hall to celebrate the win.

“I can’t say I’d mind a bit of a feast myself.” Byleth spoke quietly to Benson, allowing the conversation to remain between the two of them.

“You’d never say no to food,” he muttered back, teasing her and her endless stomach.

Byleth shoved him lightly on the shoulder. “Come on, you know you’ll enjoy it too. They aren’t so bad you know.”

Benson’s dark blue eyes affixed themselves to Byleth’s in a wordless question.

“The kids. They aren’t so bad.”

He grunted back dismissively in reply.

“I know you worry that I’m getting distracted by them… distracted from us and our family… But I promise you I’m not. They just… remind me a little bit of the crew, I guess. I think they would make good mercenaries someday.”

Sympathy colored Benson’s gaze as he replied, “I’m not worried you’ll get distracted from us Byleth, not really. I know I said that earlier, but that was irrational. I guess at the bottom of it all, what I’m really worried about is you getting hurt.”

“Hurt? What do you mean?”

“You said it yourself, you see these students as future mercenaries, future crew members… but that’s not the world we live in Byleth. Everyone around you is going to move on next year to become lords and ladies, nobles and knight.”

Byleth huffed in exasperation. “I _know_ that Benson. I’m not delusional.”

His tone remained serious, and Benson drove the final nail of what he was trying to say home. “They’ll be done with you, Byleth.” His words were heavy rocks, thrown into the ocean with nothing to do but sink down to its depths. “Not a single one of them is going to look back. For all the praise and attention they are giving you now, we’re mercenaries to them, and only worth the gold it would take to hire us.”

Benson could see the pressure gathering in his sister’s shoulders again. She tried to keep it hidden from any observers, but he could sense her irritation. She didn’t voice her thoughts, but instead continued to match his stride. They moved forward in silence, her as his shadow. It was a normal formation for them, but today their movements felt foreign. Benson knew she was upset by his harsh words, but he had to say them. Even so, he felt bad. He started thinking of ways he could make it up to Byleth, put a smile on her face again. He was sure she would forgive him, she always did, but he would do what he could to bridge the gap anyway. Just… not tonight. Benson wanted to give Byleth the evening to mull over his words and hopefully see the truth in them before they both moved on from this clinging awkwardness that hung between them.

By the time they reached the monastery the sun was beginning to set, and the Golden Deer fell into the kitchen in a fervor, ready to prepare their well-earned feast. Jeralt joined them, giving praise to their performance today and critiques for next time. Though his hands were full corralling his student away from causing too much trouble, he still managed to notice the way his own children slunk away from the dining hall. He thought it was a shame, he had been hoping they would have joined in the celebration. Jeralt wrote off their disappearance to their long held antisocial tendencies and instead returned his focus to the Golden Deer around him.

While this mock battle victory was satisfying and incredibly motivating to the students, Jeralt knew a more serious mission lay in store for them next month. Rhea wanted the Golden Deer to dispose of some bandits that were causing trouble in the local towns surrounding the monastery. Many of them had never seen someone fall in battle, let alone have been the one to kill them. Jeralt wasn’t sure how the youths would handle it but knew there was only one way to find out. Digging into the freshly whipped up meal, Jeralt put his worried thoughts off to tomorrow and instead focused in on the celebrations of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gatekeeper: Greetings, Byleth! Nothing to report! By the by, have you ever regretted a decision and wished you could go back and undo it? It's too bad there's no lesson for how to turn back the ol' clock, huh? But I suppose a bad decision isn't worth all that fuss anyhow!
> 
> Byleth to Sothis: WTF does he know?!?
> 
> Sothis to Byleth: Just smile and wave, Byleth… smile and wave. We will have to keep an eye on this one…


End file.
